


The dancing troll

by dtill359, Moonybird



Series: Trollhunters after the show ended [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters (Cartoon), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 00:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 33,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dtill359/pseuds/dtill359, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonybird/pseuds/Moonybird
Summary: Companion piece to "Beginning anew." - Nomura now with trollmarked is left without a purpose, everything she ones knew is gone and it is up to her to create a new life for herself. How-ever without purpose there seems little reason to even fight. Then a sense of purpose arrives at the most unlikely place possible. A human girl whom likes opera, a strange friendship begins.





	1. Chapter 1

There are more things in this world than eyes can see – places in the heart of the Earth where no human has ever been. The Amazon rainforest still holds deep secrets, and most of the ocean has never been explored. Mountains loom on the horizon, daring any man to climb them, and deep below the surface of our world lurk untold mysteries.

There, deep below the feet of unsuspecting men, live all manner of wonderous creatures and monsters. Humans once understood this, and many folk stories and fairytales warn of the dangers that dwell beneath the earth.

Today, those warning fall on deaf ears. Tales of trolls and goblins go unheeded – spurned as fiction – something to be relegated to a story book or seen on the big screen.

A host of interpretations of such creatures are splashed across comic book pages or shown in old theater plays. Yet, to most humans, they remain the stuff of imagination – a child's dream.

But these creatures… they are all real, and many of them hold no compunction against killing or eating humans, sometimes for entertainment.

Despite this, there are still trolls who find the portrayal of their kin by humanity… rather alluring.

Nomura was one such troll, but she was in no way an ordinary one.

As an infant, she was stolen by her tripe and forced to endure changes which imbued her with special abilities beyond the rest of trollkind.

She could walk in daylight.  
For many years she harbored the ability to change, slipping into the guise of a human, living among them, speaking to them, eating their food, sleeping in beds, just like them.

But that bond was broken now, and Nomura's ability to change was gone. She'd lost everything: her life, position, purpose. She felt like a stray dog, desperately searching for a reason to live, for someone to claim her. All her life she was faithful to her master, Gunmar the Black. But he was not a kind master. He'd beaten dogs like her when they stepped out of line, and he proved he was more than happy to put his animals down when their usefulness ended.

Nomura knew that all too well.

She hadn't done anything wrong. Quite the opposite. Everything she'd been told to do, she did, but even then, she failed to aid Gunmar in his efforts to escape the Darklands.

Displeased, Gunmar took out his wrath on her, imprisoning her with him in the Darklands.

Then something happened – something Nomura didn't believe was possible. Someone… had mercy on her. He was the Trollhunter, her enemy, but despite that, he saved her life. Risking everything, he brought her back to the outside world

That moment turned Nomura's world upside down. It was a long time before she understood what he did – even now she still marveled at it.

He saved her – his enemy.  
He didn't have to do it; in fact, Jim should have left her behind.

Since that day, Nomura looked at humans with renewed curiosity, realizing there was still so much she didn't understand about them. Regardless of the hundreds of years spent in their company, humans remained an enigma she had yet to solve.

But it wasn't just humans Nomura found puzzling. She didn't understand trolls either. When she left California for New Jersey and moved to New Trollmarket, they'd accepted her.

She wondered at Jim, who insisted she stay with the trolls; at Blinky, who stood up for her without knowing her; at Stricklander who stayed behind in California for the love of a human woman.

After the past few years, Nomura felt like she didn't understand anything at all, and she hated it.

The only relief she found was in her nightly excursions to the surface.

On swift feet, she raced through the heart of New Jersey, feeling the wind in her hair as her heart leapt for joy.

She bounded from building to building so quickly no human could ever hope to catch her. It was an incredible sight, she knew, a nimble troll leaping into the air and twisting mid-flight to land firmly on strong, stony legs.

On one such night, Nomura crept through the dark street, careful not to let the humans see her in the evening bustle. She stopped short when she heard the soft strains of a flute. The sweet hum of violins followed, accompanied by the mellow waves of horns. Beethoven's seventh symphony, Allegretto.

Nomura closed her eyes and listened. Even if the instruments weren't nearby, her keen sense of hearing picked them up. She strained to determine which direction the sounds came from, and then followed her ears for several blocks, the music gradually growing louder.

She stopped and looked up. An old theatre building. Nomura snorted and allowed herself an amused smile. The music floated through the old walls and out into the street, washing over Nomura, banishing all thoughts of her troubles as she sank into the song, letting its calm, even tones settle through her.

She climbed up onto the roof and was pleasantly surprised to find a trap door – probably an old fire exit for stage hands, or a way to let fresh air into the building.

Nomura pried the old door open. When the seal popped, music rushed through the crack and bathed her in its wonderful presence. She slipped through the door and found herself on a beam, high above the stage.  
Far below, lines of musicians sat in deep concentration, moving in concert with each other, hitting each note perfectly as their conductor stood sweating under the bright lights. The man's white hair and shirt were soaked through, but despite that, his every movement was precisely in tune with the music, leading the orchestra flawlessly. Nomura tsked when she saw how empty the audience was. Only one-third of the seats were occupied, and most of the listeners wore clothes not even suitable for a birthday party, much less a concert such as this.

Shameful.

Nomura didn't harbor much respect for humans, but there was one thing she admired about them – their ability to create things like this music. It was so… beautiful – magical.

Whether it was elegant pottery, or such wonderful music – and not all humans possessed such abilities, far from it – but those who did… Her heart fluttered.  
With a sigh, Nomura draped comfortably over the wooden beam as the music exploded into a triumphant blast.

This was what she loved about this kind of music. When she listened to it, all her fears – her worries and deepest troubles – melted away. In days past, the music could even steal Gunmar from her mind, if only for a short time.

Now, deaf to her own doubts and fears, the violins' smooth song was the only sound she heard. For this short, magnificent moment, she was at peace.  
Sadly, the feeling passed as the concert ended. The audience applauded, making up for their lack of numbers with their enthusiasm.

The musicians bowed and left the stage, filing out of the theatre several minutes later. Darkness settled over the building as the janitor swept up and flicked off the lights, leaving Nomura to soak up the lonely silence.  
Emptiness swept over her as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the vacant ceiling, her mind blank, emotions crushing her like a hundred-ton weight.

It was all… so meaningless.

Was there anything she could do to get rid of this terrible feeling?


	2. Conflict

Nomura retreated to New Trollmarket as daylight approached.

The refuge, hidden deep in the heart of New Jersey, was a place humans would have gaped at if they knew about it. The troll city – though "city" was a generous term – was the only place Nomura had to go now. Every morning, she grudgingly returned.

The former Trollmarket, in Arcadia Oaks, California, was destroyed, and her kin were forced to journey to the other side of the country to find a new Heartstone to sustain them. Only a week ago, the entire band arrived here.

Little houses and shops dotted the vast underground cavern.

Nomura snorted. It looked pathetic. Half-made structures creaked and groaned, threatening to collapse in on themselves. Heaps of garbage piled up near the subterranean river.

The only redeeming quality of the place was her little cave, far enough removed from the rest of Trollmarket that she didn't have to worry about bumping into the other trolls too often.

Nomura's home was… simplistic. A naturally-formed cave with bare, gray walls and ceiling housed nothing more than a few personal possessions. The carved-out sleeping alcove in the back was just as austere as the rest of the dwelling.

She stepped inside and tossed her matched swords on the floor. She settled down in her tiny bedroom, laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

The faint din of trolls working filtered in through the cave entrance, but Nomura felt no compunction to lend them her help.

"Ahem." The sound broke the long stretch of silence.

Nomura didn't acknowledge the intruder.

"Ahem!" The sound came again, more obnoxious this time.

With a groan, Nomura glanced at the door. "What is it, Bagdwella?"

A green, female troll, boasting an air of self-entitlement, stared back at her, her baggy dress just as gaudy as Nomura remembered.

Bagdwella snorted. "I carry a message from Blinkous; you have yet to deliver a report."

Nomura groaned again and looked away. "I didn't see anything. If I had, I would have said so. Why report when there's nothing to see?"

"Don't ask me!" Bagdwella replied, looking offended. "But Blinkous was rather insistent that you needed to go see him! And then he drafted me to hike all the way up here. Can you believe the nerve of that troll? As if I don't have better things to do."

"You and me both." Nomura muttered.

Bagdwella raised an eyebrow. "Are you doing something? Looks to me like you're just laying around being lazy," she humphed. "And here the rest of us are breaking our backs to build this place. Well, I guess that's all you can expect from an impure. Why Blinkous insisted you should stay, I'll never know."

Nomura's anger flared. She sat up straight and bared her fangs at the other troll.

Bagdwella didn't even flinch. "So, what should I tell Blinkous?" she prodded. "That you're too busy? Looking at the ceiling?"

With a hiss, Nomura stood. "Fine!" she growled. "I'll go talk to Blinky. Not that it matters," she grumbled, shoving past Bagdwella on her way out.

Nomura stomped down to New Trollmarket. She stifled a groan at the trolls she dodged along the way. Thankfully, most of them ignored her, just like she wanted, but there were still those who sent steely glares her way.

The cruel label she'd endured her whole life still lingered, even here – "Impure."

Nomura fought back her anger, trying to ignore every gawking eye as she approached Blinkous Galadrigal's keep.

As the leader of Trollmarket, Blinky had the privilege of choosing his dwelling first. He'd elected to take one of the other natural caves lining the walls of the cavern, but Blinky's keep was far closer to the city than Nomura's, positioned right beside the Heartstone.

Nomura stepped into the keep.

Blinky was always better at choosing furnishings than she was. "Too efficient" was the term that came to mind.

Nomura shook her head. It looked like Blinky was collecting garbage. Small piles of trash and other discarded objects cluttered the cave.

Even though Blinky left his books back in Arcadia, he'd built a bookshelf. It stood along the back wall, filled with… more trash. Despite the clutter, Blinky had managed to fit a table in the center of the room, and there he sat, bent over a piece of parchment, writing.

Nomura sighed. "You called."

Blinky met her gaze. "Yes. You didn't report on your scouting."

Nomura groaned. "There was nothing to report."

Blinky frowned.

"Can I go now?" Nomura asked.

Blinky pushed his parchment to the side. "Nomura, would you mind… sitting down for a moment?"

Nomura rolled her eyes. "What? Am I in trouble?"

"No." Blinky shook he head. "I just think we should talk." He got up and headed over to a cauldron hanging in the fireplace.

Nomura sat, watching as Blinky took two mismatched cups, one chipped, and filled them with grog before returning to the table. He slid one cup over to her.

She stared at the green liquid. Great… this meant a long conversation.

Blinky took a sip of his grog. "I would very much appreciate it if you would report every time you go out – just so I can be sure you're not hurt."

Nomura crossed her arms and looked away.

Blinky looked at her with concerned eyes. "Surely, at the Janus Order you always had to leave a report."

Nomura snorted. "In the Janus Order it was every troll for themselves."

"I see." Blinky glanced down at his cup, then back up at Nomura. "But this isn't the Janus Order. Here, it is all for one, and one for all." He gave her a light smile. "We look out for each other."

Nomura tapped her hoof impatiently. "Just tell me what you're trying to say, Blinky."

Blinky took another drink. "Look… I know this isn't easy for you."

Nomura snorted again.

"It's not easy for any of us. Every troll here lost their home and many of them watched their loved ones slain by Gunmar." Blinky stared into his grog. "And… I know some still think of you as Gunmar's servant."

Nomura swallowed hard. Why was Blinky bringing this up now?

"I'm afraid only time will remedy that," Blinky said with a sigh. "When AAARRRGGHH! became part of Trollmarket, it took decades for the other trolls to forgive him for what he'd done. AAARRRGGHH! had to prove his loyalty. It does… go both ways, you know. You're a part of Trollmarket now, and… you need to at least try and act like it."

"You want me to go make friends with all your little subjects?" Nomura sneered.

"No." Blinky shook his head. "Just… erhm…" He hesitated. "I want you to be part of Trollmarket – part of this tribe, but… to be frank, it doesn't always seem like you want that."

"How perceptive of you," Nomura quipped.

Blinky groaned, holding his head with his two upper arms. "Please, make an effort."

"Why?"

"Because –" Blinky sighed. "The other trolls ask me about you constantly. They're uneasy. All I can do is ask them to give you more time, but you have to work with me."

With a pout, Nomura looked away.

"You have to give Trollmarket a chance," Blinky encouraged, his eyes begging her to do what he asked.

With a sigh, Nomura stood. "I'm not into all that goodie-two-shoes stuff. I won't just go out and become best buddies with a random troll or be part of your little group because someone feels like I should."

"Nomura –"

"Look." She held up a hand. "I'll just keep to myself and the other trolls can keep to themselves. I don't bother them, they don't bother me. I pay my rent by protecting this place from intruders. Our arrangement is mutually beneficial. Am I wrong?"

"No, but –"

"Good." Nomura gave Blinky a curt nod. "Glad we got that sorted."

"But that's not –"

"Bye." Nomura waved over her shoulder. "I'll see you when there's actually a reason to do so." She stepped outside, leaving behind a bewildered Blinky.

Nomura's cup of grog still sat on the table, untouched.


	3. The three act structure

Nomura closed her eyes. Wagner's Tristan and Isolde echoed through the old theatre.

No one bothered her here in this refuge.

On show days, Nomura welcomed the opportunity to let her mind wander to far-off lands, where lovers won against staggering odds, heroes vanquished great dragons and rescued princesses, and tyrannical kings were overthrown, leaving their people to live happily ever after.

The stories weren't always so bright. Some were painfully ironic, exposing hypocrisy and pointing out flaws.

Even though the latter were entertaining, Nomura preferred the former, naïve and optimistic as they were. They let her dream – even if only for a little while.

The story she heard now was of two young lovers, doomed to tragedy. Just as any other story like it, the tale began so wonderfully it could never stay that way.

Nomura knew that feeling too well. She was in love once… Still remembered it.

She was tasked with spying on Trollmarket long ago before Arcadia Oaks existed. No humans lived in the vast forest, and she was free to roam the woods.

That day, she hunted down a grizzly, three times her size. The challenging prey pleased her.

As she faced the gigantic bear, it roared and charged, claws swiping at her. She whirled out of the way. Every move the bear made, she countered in an elegant dance, jumping and twirling.

When the moment came, Nomura's blade fell with precision, slicing off the bear's head as she grinned in triumph.

Only then did she glimpse the pair of glowing eyes.

She whirled, blades at the ready, coming face to face with a young troll, his hide light blue, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He was tall and broad, boasting an impressive rack of horns and an array of sharp spikes on his back.

The Trollhunter's son…

"You kill with great skill," breathed Draal. "That… was impressive." He glanced away, embarrassed.

Nomura blinked. Could it be… he didn't know who she was? Didn't realize she might be an enemy?

"You were like a tornado of death and destruction. To face you in combat – though I'm not sure I would win – would be truly glorious," he continued, eyes still averted.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She let slip a tiny smile as she sheathed her blades.

Draal glanced up, blushing. "Erhm… I'm Deadly – I mean – I'm Draal. Draal the Deadly." He stumbled over his words, looking away again.

Nomura's heart raced.

"What… may I call you?" he asked.

"I'm…" she hesitated. "Nomura."

"A glorious name for a glorious creature!" Draal proclaimed.

Nomura couldn't keep back her smile any longer. It was the first time in her life anyone offered her such honest praise.

Next they met, Draal dragged with him a slain monster twice the size of Nomura's grizzly. She knew Draal meant it as proof of his strength, and as a gift to her – a delicious one which Nomura happily ate as Draal watched, looking pleased with himself.  
It began so wonderfully… too wonderfully to last.

Nomura let the music wash over her, offering just enough comfort to dull the old ache of loss.

 

When the theatre lay dark and silent, Nomura climbed up to a cramped attic, hanging far above the theatre hall. The small space overflowed with props and old costumes, but the best thing about it was the peephole. Through it, she could see the stage unobstructed.

The attic was warm and comfortable, and as Nomura curled up on the floor, she almost felt peaceful.

Her ears twitched as the soft tones of a piano drifted up through the hall. The faint hiss of static told her the music was recorded as a young, nervous voice began Ave Maria.

Nomura lay still as the singer stumbled through the Latin, managing to pronounce half of the words. Undeterred, the girl's voice echoed through the theatre, and it soothed Nomura.

As the song ended, and another began, curiosity got the better of the troll and she crept over to the peephole.

Nomura didn't recognize the girl. It wasn't, as she thought, one of the younger actors, or a stage hand – at least, she didn't seem to be.

Thirteen or fourteen at most, her skin was dark as chocolate, hair raven black as it fell in soft curls around her shoulders. She wore old jeans and a big, white sweater, hanging off one shoulder.

The music came from the girl's cellphone, hooked up to a little speaker. The setup was as low-tech as it could be. Despite that, the girl sang as though lost in the world of music, eyes closed, caring for nothing except her song.

Growing bolder, she spread her arms to the empty theatre, letting out a high note so tenacious it reached the back row.

Though lacking in technique, the girl had good lungs.

Nomura watched the funny little human with piqued interest. At least she had good taste. That was more than she could say of most humans.

With a sigh, the troll lay back down, the girl's song soothing her weary body.

Nomura woke some time later to silence, the girl long gone. As sunrise approached, she clambered out of the old building and tore through the gray streets, already glowing with the first rays of morning.

"That's what you get for letting your guard down," she chided herself as she stole back to her little cave tucked away in the far corner of New Trollmarket.


	4. Forgiveness

Every day, Nomura was eager for night to fall. Curious to see if the girl returned to the theater, Nomura sneaked in every night. The girl's appearances were inconsistent, her repertoire small, and her skills mediocre, but Nomura looked forward to it.

Even if the girl didn't realize it, her singing soothed Nomura, and she discovered she looked forward to it. Joan's voice took the troll's mind off Trollmarket, at least for a little while.

Nomura stood, head down, arms crossed, just outside her little cave. She remembered the time she came so close to successfully infiltrating the old Trollmarket, back in Arcadia. She thought the Janus Order would disapprove of her relationship with Draal, but instead, they praised her for seducing him and ordered her to use his favor to her advantage. Her instructions were clear: let Draal show her Trollmarket and then kill Kanjigar.

The opportunity to slay the former Trollhunter came, and with sword raised she prepared to follow orders. But Draal spotted her. The hurt in his eyes astounded Nomura and regret flashed through her as her blade descended. Draal blocked her.

Another troll heaved a gaggletag at her. The instant it touched Nomura, she morphed into her human form.

Draal gaped. "I see now – you impure beast!" he bellowed.

Nomura hissed at him and changed back into a troll.

"Get out of here!" he roared at her. "Get out! Impure! Leave, or I'll kill you myself!"

Now that she thought about it, Draal spared her life that day. Instead of killing her, he threw her out. But that cursed label still stung – especially when he uttered it.

Impure.

The word always echoed through the old Trollmarket.

Jim's voice carried to Nomura's ears from another part of New Trollmarket. "We don't use that word here!"

"Stay out of our business, Trollhunter," another voice replied

"No. I won't," Jim said. "That word is disgusting; I don't want to hear it said here – ever!"

Nomura crept toward a stone archway. She spied the group of trolls Jim confronted, Claire at his side. NotEnrique stood between the humans and trolls, glancing back and forth at the two groups with wide eyes.

"Apologize," Claire demanded.

"It's all right, guys. Don't put me on the spot," NotEnrique said, his voice quavering.

"It's not all right." Claire crossed her arms and glared at the other trolls. "You're my brother; nobody bullys my brother."

"Claire…" NotEnrique's wide eyes misted.

"Two changelings are part of this tribe now – NotEnrique, and Nomura." Jim said. "They both helped fight Gunmar; they risked their lives! That's more than most of you did, so I expect you to treat them with respect. You owe them that much."

The group of trolls backed away, embarrassed by the Trollhunter's scolding, but one troll, toward the back of the group, spoke. "They're traitors! They betrayed their own tribe. What makes you think they won't betray us too?"

"Give them a chance," Jim said. "I know things are difficult now. Gunmar's forces drove us from our homes. Almost half of Trollmarket died in the battle with him, but that's why we need to consider the future we want to build here. What kind of tribe do you want to be? The war is over, so stop acting like it isn't."

The group stared at Jim. "What did Blinky tell you?" he asked.

Every eye sank to the floor, and they mumbled in chorus, "Don't use the word…"

"Right." Jim gave the lot a stern look. "Blinky's your leader, so do what he tells you – and do what I tell you. How hard is it not to use one little word?" he asked, exasperated.

Nomura watched as the trolls avoided looking at Jim or Claire. But NotEnrique scuttled up onto Claire's back and rested his head on her shoulder. "It's hard to be upset when such swell guys are ready to stand up for ya." He gave Claire a toothy smile.

She patted his head with a smile. "Don't let these brick-heads bully you, all right?"

"Yeah, okay." Not Enrique nodded.

The group dispersed.

Nomura leaned against the wall for a few minutes, then settled to the ground.

She already knew things were changing, but this confirmed it. Nomura remembered the last time she saw Draal…. When he agreed to rescue her from the Darklands – against his own father's instructions. For the first time in over two hundred years, she'd stood face to face with him. She closed her eyes, remembering the conversation well.

"Nomura," Draal hesitated.

She looked away.

"Sorry about… Gunmar trying to kill you, and… things." Draal kept his eyes on the ground.

"That's all right. I failed my mission. Gunmar doesn't tolerate failure. I'm sorry about your father… I know Bular… got him," Nomura replied quietly.

Both swallowed hard before looking at each other.

"I – I'm sorry… for how I treated you… in the past," Draal said.

"No… I'm sorry for lying – for trying to kill you and your father." Nomura laid a hand on his strong, stony chest.

"You were just following orders," Draal replied.

"Yes." Nomura hung her head. "Following orders, as if that's an excuse." She took back her hand.

"I didn't give you much of a choice but to lie." Draal said. "Killing Gunmar and his servants was my goal. If you'd told me who you really were… I…" He sighed. "I'm sorry."

Nomura looked into his eyes. "You've changed." She realized. "A lot. Once, you were so blindly single-minded."

Draal nodded. "I had much to learn back then. Luckily, I found myself a good teacher." He looked at the human Trollhunter, standing hand-in-hand with his girlfriend.

"Him?" Nomura raised an eyebrow. "Jim taught you?"

With a nod, Draal said, "He taught me a way – better than the ancient way of the trolls. We must honor the past, but we must not let it enslave us."

Nomura laid a finger on her chin thoughtfully. "I… should leave."

"Where will you go?" Draal called after her.

"Far away," Nomura replied. "To a place the Janus Order will never find me."

"You–" Draal caught up to her. "You… could stay, you know. I mean–"

Nomura smirked. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh." Draal's shoulder's sagged. "I'll slay you a large beast," he offered.

Nomura grinned, her razored teeth glinting in the light of the rising sun. "Maybe next time." She hurried into the forest, long hair flowing behind her as she felt Draal's gaze linger on her.

Nomura sat against the wall, eyes still closed as she came out of the memory.

She sighed. With all these changes, was there still a place for her in New Trollmarket? Surely, if Draal, the most bull-headed troll in all Trollmarket could change…

She was glad of one thing – being able to share that moment with Draal – to see his eyes filled with forgiveness instead of burning with anger. It was her last memory of him. She kept it close.

Jim had that effect on people – teaching them how to forgive.

Nomura found it… intriguing.


	5. Meaning

Nomura stared at her new MP3 player. How could such a tiny thing, filled with wires and circuits, bring life to her dark corner with the utterances of hundreds of musical masterpieces?

If the gift was strange, the gift-giver, sitting next to her, was even stranger. The troll's green hide blended into the stone like moss on rock.

Stricklander came to New Trollmarket on a visit with Barbara Lake, Jim's mother - a situation odder still.

Nomura lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Stricklander… She'd known him for hundreds of years, but like everything else in her life, he changed.

She remembered him full of fake smiles, his eyes devoid of true warmth, ruthless. He wouldn't hesitate to use another Changeling for his own ends, without a thought for his pawn. Stricklander was always calculating, always plotting, thinking in cold tactics. Emotion wasn't a factor for him. He did whatever was necessary to reach his goal.

He thought in terms of logic and numbers. A sacrifice of one to save a hundred – he would take it without hesitation. He had to do it to survive. Nomura knew that, and she couldn't blame him.

But now… With Barbara Lake emotion was his guide rather than reason. He was something Nomura could never recall before – unsure.

Nomura felt a measure of comfort in Stricklander's confusion. Another Changeling caught between an old life and a new one – just like her – eased her clouded thoughts.

But though it reassured Nomura, it also disquieted her. The other troll was one of few constants in her life. Once, she could count on him to be his calculating self, always three steps ahead, and the sneakiest of turncoats.

Not anymore.

The world that turned them both into the survivors they were today… was gone.

Nomura envied him. In Barbara, Stricklander found his purpose again. He regained his strength of will and the determination to fight. But for Nomura… there was nothing.

The other troll sought her out on his trip to New Trollmarket. Nomura wouldn't admit it to him, but she was glad for his company. Stricklander was the only one left who could understand the hundreds of years of struggle – the double life, always hiding your true nature.

Of course, there was also NotEnrique, but he was far too young to grasp the weight of a life as long as theirs.

"Humans are strange creatures, aren't they?" Stricklander asked.

"Very weird," Nomura agreed.

"They live such short, insignificant lives, and yet, they still find meaning in it," he said.

"What's all this about?" Nomura rolled her eyes.

"I'm not sure," Stricklander said. "A thousand years… and it all seems so meaningless, doesn't it?"

Nomura closed her eyes.

"We just delivered hundreds of infants to orphanages all over the world. Thousands more are born every single day. Yet, Barbara makes caring for this one child she chose feel so meaningful. It doesn't make sense. This baby won't live very long – not in comparison to a troll who has eternity to engrave his mark on the world."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Nomura said.

"I suppose I'm rambling." He sighed.

Nomura glanced over at Stricklander and glimpsed the conflict clouding his face. An empty ache inside her wished to understand. Even though it gave him pain, and despite the fear she saw creep over him sometimes, she knew he wouldn't trade his newly-found resolve for anything.

But how…? How did he know this was his purpose?

Long after Stricklander left, the question burned inside Nomura.

She returned to the old theatre, happy to see the girl back tonight. Nomura listened, and the young woman's song whisked away her worries… of only for a moment.


	6. Dissonance

A few nights later, Nomura stretched out in her hiding place in the theatre attic. She groaned, unable to find a comfortable spot tonight.

The whispers of "impure" uttered in secret by those thinking no one heard them stuck in her head. The New Trollmarket denizens feared Jim, Claire, or Blinky catching them saying the forbidden word – that was all it was, just a word. And a stupid one at that.

So why did it aggravate her so much?

The girl sang on stage, but her song failed to soothe Nomura's mind this time. The young woman's voice was so dissonant Nomura covered her ears.

Why was the human suddenly so bad at singing?

"AAAAARHHHHHH!" the girl shouted to the empty theatre. "Don't call me 'nigger'!"

Nomura darted to the peephole.

The girl's face contorted with rage as she fell to her knees and slammed angry fists into the wooden floor. Tears streamed from her eyes. A string of unrepeatable curses flew from her lips, and then she sobbed, "I'm not a freak – or a thug – or a – a – I'm not… I'm not…"

The girl's foul language struck Nomura, but she pushed away the urge to march downstairs and scold her. Pain followed on the heels of the young woman's anger as she clutched her knees to her chest and cried.

Nomura stared. She couldn't show herself. Her presence would only serve to frighten.

Voice shaking, the girl began "Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore" from Tosca.

It sounded awful.

The girl sobbed and stumbled over the words. She hit not a single note. Then, Nomura heard it – a desperate attempt to escape pain. The girl grasped at the words and reached for notes she couldn't hit, longing to sink into her dreams.

Spent, the girl curled up on the floor. Her crying stilled as she fell asleep.

Nomura's instincts screamed at her to walk away. But even though there was nothing she could do, she couldn't leave.

Nomura crawled out onto the ceiling beams and descended the wall, coming to stand right in front of the sleeping young woman. She approached, gazing down at the girl's tear-stained face. On silent hooves, Nomura whisked backstage and returned, draping a blanket over the girl. She retreated into the shadows and sat, watching over the young woman as she slept.

Before first light, the girl woke. She eyed the blanket, her confusion growing as she spied a folded note lying nearby. She hesitated, and then took the paper and flipped it open. She gave a startled blink as she read the short message. "Stay true to yourself, then who cares what others think?"

With a frown, the girl looked around the theatre. She stood; the blanket fell to the floor.

If she'd looked a little further to her right, into the darkness, she would have seen the pair of glowing green eyes, still observing her.


	7. Stories

Nomura heard the girl's short, quiet steps as she entered the theatre again a few nights later.

"Hello…?" the young woman called into the dim hall. "Is – is someone there?" Her voice echoed.

In the small attic, Nomura sat so still the paper elephant hanging a foot away on the wall wouldn't have noticed her presence.

Below, the girl climbed onto the stage and peered into the orchestra pit and then slipped backstage for a minute. She emerged from behind the curtain with a frown and withdrew Nomura's note. Pen in hand, she started to write on the folded paper.

A prop backstage clanked over, disturbed by the thick curtain's flutter.

The young woman jerked up from her writing and turned a quick circle. When she saw no one, she shivered. "Heh… Is this the phantom of the opera…?" she said jokingly as she managed a hard swallow. "Is – is someone watching me? If you're there, come out!"

A few of the lights on stage cast the girl in a warm, orange light.

"Look, I – I don't want to be a bother. I just – I can't sing at home, and I… I like singing…" The theatre sat silent. The girl peered into the dim rows of seats. "I'm just… going to listen to some music." She pulled out her cellphone – no speaker tonight. "I hope that's okay. I mean – I suppose I could listen at home with earbuds, but… it's always so noisy there." She bit her lip and stared at the floor. "And no one's found me here yet. Please." She looked up into the empty theatre again. "Don't be mad."

When the vacant seats didn't answer her, the girl settled down onto the stage. She tucked one gray sneakered foot behind its opposite knee. "O-okay then. I'll just… erh… listen to my music." After one more wary survey, she tapped the play button.

"Norwegian Morning" from Peer Gynt settled its gentle tones over the theatre and took Nomura by surprise.

"I looked that quote up on the internet," the girl said when the song ended. "I… don't really know the stories of all the plays; I just like the music." She lay on her back, hands folded over her stomach and sighed. "What am I doing? There's no one here," she muttered at the high ceiling and then reached over and restarted the same song. As the clear notes sounded through the hall, the girl allowed a tiny smile and her eyes grew distant. "Pretty…"

Nomura withdrew from the peephole and curled up on the attic floor. She closed her eyes and listened. Even if she couldn't reveal her presence, she could at least offer her company in spirit.

Nomura's mood lifted. She was still closed off, snappy, and generally rude, and she kept to herself, but there was improvement. She was a tiny bit easier to get along with and a hint more relaxed. The change manifested in a desire to decorate her keep. Serviceable posters and programs rescued from the theatre rubbish bins dotted her walls, displaying magnificent scenes from a variety of plays and operas.

On one side of the room she kept once beautiful antique pottery and artifacts the humans threw away or abandoned. In her spare time, Nomura worked to restore the items to their former glory. As she labored, she remembered why she loved working at Arcadia's museum. Hours sped past unnoticed as she painstakingly fitted each piece back together and listened to the gentle music humming from her MP3 player.

The day Jim paid her a visit, she was still in a good mood. Focused on another half-constructed vase, she paid him little mind as he studied an old urn she'd recently finished restoring.

"Wow," he breathed in awe. The young hybrid troll's blue hide blended with the dull grey-blue stone of Nomura's keep. His blue eyes traced the golden lines that laced the white porcelain. "I can barely see the cracks. This was broken when you found it, right?"

"Yes. And a shame it was too," Nomura replied. She straightened and stepped away from her work table.

"It's nice looking," Jim said.

"Looks are not what matter," Nomura glowered. "Artifacts have history! Each line and crafting technique tell of a society – a journey. They are stories by themselves."

"Okay." Jim blinked. "So, what's this thing's story?" He pointed at the urn.

"The design is Anglo-Saxon," Nomura said. "Repainted during the Renaissance." She indicated the gold lines. "These were made to cover up where it originally broke. So much history…" She shook her head. "And it ended up in a sewer."

"How on earth could that happen?" Jim wrinkled his bushy eyebrows.

"More easily – and more often than you would think," Nomura quipped. "Usually, it's some idiot thug. They steal it, and then realize they can't sell it without getting caught, so they toss it. But there are other reasons too. A collector may have died, and his family didn't know the value of the items, or didn't care, so they tossed them aside like trash."

"Well, I'm glad you could save them," Jim said with a toothy smile. He studied the urn again. "It's nice to see you do this."

Nomura huffed and turned back to her work, but she caught Jim's smirk as he shook his head at her.

His expression turned serious again. "Nomura, I'm sorry about how the other trolls treat you. I'm glad you're doing well; I really am."

"Spare me, Trollhunter," Nomura snorted. "I am far from the first being on this earth to be called names, and I certainly won't be the last. I faced wars and death is years past. In fact, if it weren't for this –" she gestured to her work table, "– I would be insufferably bored."

"All right. If you say so." Jim held up his mismatched digit hands and gave her an amused grin. "Oh! And I thought you might want to know. Mr. Strickler and Mom are coming by in two days. Mom said they have something important to announce." He shook his head. "Last time, Mom said she was going to adopt. I doubt they'll be able to top that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Nomura commented. "You can't predict what Stricklander is going to do." She narrowed her eyes. "That snake."

Jim chuckled. "I'll see you later." He slipped out, leaving Nomura to her pottery.


	8. Repend

"And with Gunmar's rise will come our hour of triumph!"

The grand speeches – the fancy words – all echoed in Nomura's memory as she recalled the scene. She was seated among her fellow Changelings in human form. Before them stood an ordinary-looking gentleman, his words eloquent, persuasive.

But his graying, middle-aged appearance vanished with a flash and revealed the being's true form, that of a green troll, his eyes burning bright yellow. "We will hide no longer!" He raised a clawed hand. "And we will crush our enemies!" His hand curled into a fist.

Every Changeling bellowed approval as they morphed into their troll bodies. They beat chairs and stomped heavy feet.

Nomura joined the uproar, shouting Stricklander's praises. His words were like a drug; they promised freedom – the chance to run wild on the surface – to take vengeance on all the humans.

Stricklander's razored teeth grinned at them all. He was so secure, like nothing could touch him, and in his eyes, Nomura saw no mercy.

She remembered another scene.

"You fool!" Stricklander, in his human form, raged. He grabbed the young male Changeling by the throat. "You had the bridge piece, and you lost it?! On top of that, you were compromised!"

Nomura and her fellow Changelings ringed their leader and unfortunate colleague.

"I – I'm sorry," the young man rasped. He morphed into troll form – a dark red hide and small horns – and clutched at Stricklander's tight grip. "Please –" he coughed "– forgive me."

Stricklander hissed in the young Changeling's face and turned from human to troll. He smacked the younger Changeling down so hard, the marble floor tiles shattered. "Do you realize what you've done – what could have happened?" He planted a foot over the downed troll's eyes.

"I'm sorry! It won't happen again," the young Changeling wailed.

Stricklander's eyes darkened. "No," he hissed. "It won't." He stepped off the other troll. "Gunmar has no use for such unreliable servants."

The younger troll stared up at Stricklander in horror.

"Bular is bored. Be useful and offer him some entertainment before your end." Stricklander turned away.

"No!" The Changeling lunged at Stricklander and grabbed for his leg. "Please! Gunmar won't have to know – just don't tell him! Please! Help me!" he begged.

Stricklander kicked the other troll off and rolled his eyes. "You brought it on yourself," he said as he walked away.

As Nomura left the room with everyone else, she steeled her ears against the red Changeling's pleas. Failing to follow orders meant death. It was part of the game. They all knew that. None were willing to become collateral damage because of another's failure.

Among the countless threats to Changelings, the greatest of all, was other Changelings. The friend of yesterday was the betrayer of tomorrow. Along with failure, punishment came, swift and unforgiving. Each would trade another for their own safety. And above it all stood Stricklander, the unmovable.

Only now, here, far away from Arcadia and their old lives, did Nomura realize just how trapped he was back then. It unsettled Nomura to see him now. Instead of confidence, his eyes held doubt and anxiety, but the deep confusion from their last meeting had ebbed.

"You're actually serious," Nomura said in disbelief. "You intend to live out the rest of your life as a human? You're insane!"

"That's probably true," Stricklander admitted.

The two trolls sat atop a high roof overlooking the darkening streets of western New Jersey. Cars whipped down the roads too fast, their brights drilling into other drivers' eyes. Humans commuting home from work honked at each other and waved angry fists at crawling traffic. Nomura chuckled at them.

"It is odd…" Stricklander whispered. "But with her… I feel… safe. Barbara's not the kind to turn on someone. She's honest – in fact, she's a terrible liar. She carries her emotions on her sleeve." He smiled softly.

In Stricklander's eyes, Nomura saw what any half-brained idiot would – pure love. It made her heart ache, and she fought back a surge of jealousy.

"I hope he won't find us…" Stricklander said.

"Daumier?" Nomura snorted. "Just fight him off. Alberto's no match for you."

"He wants blood – mine – and I don't blame him. How can I?" Stricklander stared down at the passing traffic as light drops of rain pattered on the roof.

A pang of sympathy hit Nomura. Stricklander did what he had to, so he could survive. Under pressure, he'd shoved aside the screams, the pleas for mercy so he could keep his life. But now that Gunmar was dead and there was time to think, it all flooded back – on both of them.

"I'm sorry, Nomura… for how I treated you – and the rest of us. I gave you to Bular, just like I sacrificed so many others." Stricklander's whisper barely rose above the din below.

"You don't need to apologize," Nomura replied. "If you hadn't turned me over, they'd have taken your head in my place. Then Bular would have tracked me down anyway – two deaths instead of one. And, well... I survived, so I suppose it worked out."

"True," Stricklander admitted with a sigh. "Still…"

"Don't tell me this is you trying to repent." Nomura raised an eyebrow at him.

Stricklander snorted. "There is no way on earth I could possibly repent for everything I've done. I don't think it's worth pretending otherwise. Do you?"

Nomura looked away and shook her head. "I suppose not."

"All we can do is look to the future and leave the past behind us. Anything else would drive me insane," Stricklander said.

"Yeah…"

Nomura and Stricklander sat in silence, watching the last of the nightly traffic trickle down to a sparse few cars. As she watched a dark blue Ford truck rumble past, black smoke chugging from its exhaust, a thought flickered through her mind, and then it grew into an overwhelming urge.

She stood up. "Follow me."

"What is it?" he asked.

"You'll see when we get there."

Maybe Stricklander could use some music tonight.


	9. After curtain fall

Nomura stared down at the girl, bewildered. No matter how long she looked, the feeling wouldn't go away.

How could she not have noticed before?

Stricklander had asked one very simple question a few moments ago. "Where are her parents?"

It was a good question. At this time of night, most girls her age would be in bed, asleep. Every time this one come to the theatre, it was well after dark, when the building was deserted, closed for the night.  
Then, there were the bruises.

This girl didn't seem like the type to get into fights. Instead of displaying her bruises like prizes won in a brawl, her clothes hid them.  
What was going on here?

The girl's outburst from the other day rang through Nomura, and she remembered how hurt the girl looked afterward. Nothing made sense about this.

As she ventured out to meet a waiting Stricklander, perched on the rooftop looking up at the stars, Nomura's shock still didn't ebb.

Stricklander glanced at her over his shoulder, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. "You alright? he asked.

"I'm… fine." She avoided his gaze.

"It's not that uncommon, you know," Stricklander pointed out. "Even back in Arcadia, with its neat suburbs and respectable residents, there was the occasional student who… Well…" his sentence trailed off. "Steve Palchuk was one of them. That is, until his father left – which was probably for the better. Steve still had some serious attitude problems as a result though." He sighed. "His lack of intelligence didn't help either."

"You would think when someone decides to bring a new life into this world, they would take better care of it." Nomura growled. "Humans – disgusting."

"It's fascinating, isn't it? Human kind… They're capable of so much good… and so much evil…" Stricklander said thoughtfully.

"And from tomorrow on, you're going to be one," Nomura added. "Feeling nervous?"

"Heh." Stricklander's smile was a little awkward. "To be honest… I'm terrified," he admitted. "What if it all goes wrong? I don't think I've ever done anything that didn't end in tragedy. No matter how far ahead I planned, or how many contingencies I had in place… And a child – you can't plan for what kind of person a child will become. Then again, any plans I still harbored hope for were thrown out the window the moment Jim defeated Gunmar." He snorted. "Is it strange that I sometimes miss the Janus Order? At least there I knew my role."

"Not strange at all," Nomura replied quietly, joining Stricklander in looking up at the stars. "I'm useless around here; there's nothing for me to do." She let out a deep sigh. "You have someone who matters to you. I… don't." She stopped short and shook her head. "Why is it you of all people I'm pouring my heart out to?" She growled and let her gaze fall to the street below. "It sickens me."

"Because there is no one else," Stricklander replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We are all that's left." His eyes fell to the cityscape. "That's probably for the best… The Janus Order is better forgotten."

"Yes," Nomura admitted. "It is."

She knew Stricklander did the right thing in sealing the old Order headquarters. For all intents and purposes, it was erased from history.

But where did that leave her?

It was all well and good for Stricklander. He was off to a new life. Then there was NotEnrique, but he didn't seem to care about much.

Nomura was alone – the forgotten one.

In the Janus Order, there were strict guidelines. Once a job was done, another would be presented, along with rules of what to and not to do. But the real world was far vaster and more chaotic than anything the dead organization had ever conjured. It was impossible to weave grand plans, and sometimes just as difficult to predict the results of day to day events.

The real world… terrified her.

The faint whisper of music floated up through the crack in the trapdoor. The girl's gentle song settled over Nomura, its touch melting away some of her fear.

Yes, the real world was frightening.

The girl's voice washed over her.

But sometimes… beauty eclipsed life's hideous face.

A simple tone – quiet and soothing, or a bold swath of graffiti – unconventional, but no less breathtaking – lent dots of color and hope to the chaos, hurt, and anger. These tiny treasures… they made no sense, but they never failed to touch Nomura, and she was grateful for them.


	10. Tragedy of the commons

Nomura crawled over buildings and slithered up walls as she followed Joan. Her mastery of spying and secrecy allowed her to move unheard and unseen.

As Joan navigated the dirty streets, Nomura's sense of danger rose.

Groups of teenagers, mostly young men, lurked in the shadows. Each group the young woman passed wore a different color or symbol, reminding Nomura of many trolls' tribal behavior as the teenagers congregated with others of the same ethnicity.

Despite the darkness, half the young people wore hooded jackets, and the others sported dingy wife-beaters. The glowing tips of cigarettes illuminated their hard eyes with every draw, and empty beer cans littered the ground around their feet.

With every block they passed, Joan walked faster. Nomura kept a closer eye on the girl the farther into gang territory she went.

The more of humanity Nomura saw, the more she wondered at Trollmarket with all the shapes and sizes of its denizens, living together peacefully.

Joan stopped in front of a run-down apartment building, its paint peeling. Several windows on the lower floor were smashed, and glass littered the street. Rap's heavy beat rang in Nomura's ears, setting her teeth on edge. The flat, electronic noise irritated her with its inane repetition and lack of musical substance.

Joan glanced up at a lit window and groaned, taking a deep breath before venturing inside.

Nomura deftly leapt over to the tattered building and peaked in, watching Joan's ascent until the girl arrived on the fourth floor and entered the lit apartment.

In the living room, a woman sat on the couch, face vacant, eyes glazed over as a thin trail of smoke rose from the joint in her hand. Across the room, a man danced and wailed along with the music.

Nomura tugged the window open an inch. The grating noise blasted into her face.

Joan, head down, started past the man.

"Where you been?" he demanded.

The young woman bit her lip. "Out."

"Joan." The woman on the couch took another hit of her joint. "Josh asked you a question."

"I can't sleep will all the noise here!" Joan shot back. "So, I went for a walk."

"You been hangin' with those Proud Hogs, haven't you?" Josh accused, cursing at the teen.

"No!" Joan defended.

Nomura's ears flattened as Josh slapped Joan so hard the sound rang clearly above the din of the radio.

"Don't you lie to me, girl!"

To Nomura's surprise, the young woman didn't say anything, just stepped away from Josh, eyes averted.

The woman on the couch sighed loudly. "Why you have to be so difficult? Your brother's doin' so good helpin' out the Punk Sharks."

Joan watched a younger boy, sitting in the corner, his skin just a little lighter than her dark chocolate complexion. The thirteen-year-old eagerly chugged a beer.

"David just sold ten G's of snow today. He's bringin' in the dough." The woman gave the boy a proud smile, and David grinned at the praise. "The least you could do is help out, girl."

"I'm going to bed," Joan muttered, heading for the door on the other side of the room.

"Hey! Don't you walk away from me!" Josh bellowed. "You listen when I tell you somethin'!"

"Why? What is it you want?" Joan snapped. "You're not my dad."

Josh's hand flew toward Joan again. Nomura hissed at the sharp slap, fire rising in her throat.

"Don't you talk to me like that, Nigga," Josh growled.

Nomura drew back at the man's words as she saw the defeat in Joan's eyes. The young woman put her head down and didn't reply.

"Why you ain't sayin' nothin'?" Josh narrowed his eyes. "Huh?" When Joan still didn't reply, he gave her a condescending pat on the head. "Good girl."

This time, when Joan turned to leave, Josh let her go. Nomura skittered over the outside wall, slipping to the next window. Joan walked into a tiny bedroom. Three beds were stuffed inside, one of them occupied by a boy a little older than Joan. He lay on his back, snoring.

With a sigh, Joan plopped down on her bed, sitting quietly for a long moment. She pulled off her big sweater. Nomura's anger flared again as she saw the lines of bruises on the girl's arms.

Joan changed for the night and climbed into bed.

Nomura crept back to the first window and spotted the marks on the woman's body – just as many, if not more than Joan's. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed her lack of sleep, and her poor skin reflected her steady diet of drugs and alcohol. She wasn't very old – maybe in her late twenties or early thirties.

Despite Nomura's anger, sadness welled up as she looked at the scene again: the boy, praised for selling drugs and drinking beer; the thin, sickly woman who tried to hide her world-worn face behind a mask of makeup and brightly colored clothes; and the man whose only recourse was to beat those who displeased or disagreed with him.

One word echoed in Nomura's mind. Hopeless.

The troll slinked back to the ground floor. She spied a list of names posted outside the main entrance – the building's residents.

She skirted through the list. There. Isabel Callas, Christian Callas, Joan Callas, David Callas – no mention of a Josh or Joshua. Nomura snorted. So, the hot-head was a leech.

She checked the list again, figuring Christian was the older boy asleep in the bedroom.

Nomura sighed. Knowing her rotten luck, this wouldn't be the last she'd see of this terrible neighborhood, but to her surprise, that knowledge didn't trouble her as much as it should have.


	11. When two worlds collide

"Why are you doing this?" Nomura chided herself every night she sneaked into the theatre to make sure Joan was there.

After the girl finished singing, Nomura followed her home, watching over Joan until she made it safely into bed.

The more Nomura learned about Joan's situation, the more disgusted she became. The teenager traversed dangerous streets every night, often coming home to a drunken mother.

Isabel Callas was just as unhinged as her boyfriend, Josh. When she drank, she screamed at everything and beat whoever got in her way – even her own children, only calming down when Josh smacked her back. After that, Isabel bawled and drunkenly begged for forgiveness.

Josh's gang, the Punk Sharks, claimed the area surrounding the Callas's apartment building as their drug-selling territory. They terrorized anyone unfortunate enough to stumble onto their turf.

Another gang, the Proud Hogs, were their mortal enemies, and the rivals clashed often, starting street brawls that made Nomura wonder why trolls were considered the more vicious species. At least trolls had rules of combat – honor that prevented the use of underhanded methods. To use a cheap trick was to forfeit and leave an indelible stain on one's pride.

Draal… would never stand for such a thing. But a Changeling would – except they would execute their deception with forethought and wit, not mindless idiocy.

The situation was ridiculous. Two groups battling for the rights to sell drugs in a run-down portion of town and earn what they called "street cred."

They used children to ferry their product, making it impossible for the police to enact justice. A thirteen-year-old caught with marijuana or cocaine wouldn't endure the same punishment as an adult. As a result, the youngest Callas sibling – David, thirteen – was Josh's favored runner. Joan was only fourteen, and her big brother Chris, a proud member of the gang, was just sixteen.

The children were the victims – pulled into a world they couldn't escape.

David and Chris wanted the admiration of the gang members. Joan kept her head down, playing by the rules so she could survive the death-game she lived in.

Every night as she listened to Joan sing, Nomura's chest tightened. Everyone had a role to play, and no matter how desperately they longed for an escape, they could never have it.

Joan's song pierced Nomura's heart as she heard the yearning for a distant world, the longing to fly so far away no one would ever find her. The girl didn't understand the contexts of the songs she sang; instead, she made up her own stories and used them to escape – no matter how fleeting that escape proved to be.

Frustrated, Nomura snapped more than usual at trolls who blundered into her path. Her mind roiled as she told herself there was no point in going back night after night. But, no matter how painful it was to listen to Joan sing, Nomura couldn't pry herself away – couldn't let the girl go.

One night, Joan sang her interpretation of Siciliana from I Vespri Siciliani. It was completely wrong. The song, meant to be playful, full of life and energy, flowed from Joan's heart with desperation and longing for a freedom she couldn't grasp no matter how tenacious her song.

Despite the mispronounced words and wavering tones, Nomura couldn't stop listening.

From that moment on, the troll felt compelled to follow Joan home, lurking in the shadows as she watched over the girl.

Then, the inevitable happened.

As Joan walked home, she passed a group of young men, one, his skin a bit lighter than hers, glanced over his shoulder as she walked by.

"Yo!" he called after her. "What's up, babe?"

Joan, her eyes on the street, head down, kept walking.

"Hey! Answer when I talk to you!" he demanded.

"Yo, man, calm down," another boy said. "That girl's just a kid. Let it go."

"So, what?" the first young man huffed, then shouted at Joan again, "When I speak, you need to answer, girl!"

Joan still kept walking.

"Hey! Didn't you hear me?" He darted in front of her, blocking her path. "I said, 'What's up, babe?'"

Joan lifted hesitant eyes. "I'm… just going home. Please, leave me alone." She headed down an adjacent street.

The young man snorted with disdain but didn't follow her.

Nomura let out a relieved sigh and went down the dark road after Joan.

As the young woman passed an alley, another man, this one familiar, stepped in Joan's way… Josh.

"What's this now?" Josh asked.

At the sound of his voice, Joan's eyes shot up.

"You talkin' with the Proud Hogs? What's that about?" He glared at her.

"It's not–"

"I know that's where you been," Josh accused. "Punk Sharks not good enough for you?"

"That's not what happened." Joan swallowed hard and took a step back. "I just… I was…"

"I knew it!" Josh growled. "Every night you disappear. This's what you was doin'."

Nomura narrowed her eyes, ears flat as she hissed from the darkness. The greatest threat to Changelings were other Changelings. If suspected of being a traitor, punishment was swift… and unforgiving.

Josh hurled insults at Joan, slapping her so hard she fell, hands and knees smacking into the concrete. The scene blurred as Nomura remembered the sound of her fellow Changelings screaming, begging for Gunmar's mercy. They thought the master mistaken in his wrath; the Changelings didn't mean to step out of line – perhaps it was a misunderstanding.

Joan stayed on the ground, silent, head low as she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back tears.

Nomura's heart clenched. She understood what it was to be caught in a web of suspicion and hatred – to know one wrong step or personal expression could have devastating consequences.

Josh pulled out a knife, hissing at the girl. "See what you're makin' me do, Joan? I don't wanna hurt you." He stepped toward her. "It's your own fault, ya know."

Nomura drew in a sharp breath.

Changelings knew that sentiment too well. It's your own fault… for stepping out of line – messing up – acting suspiciously.

Josh grabbed Joan's face and jerked it toward him. She trembled as he flashed the knife two inches from her nose.

"Now, learn your place." He gave her a sadistic smile, reveling in the young woman's terror.

Nomura snapped. With a roar she leapt from an apartment landing down into the street, hitting the pavement beside Josh and sending a stony fist connecting with his head. The man flew into the wall on the opposite side of the road.

Several other gang members gaped, and a few scurried away.

"What is that thing?" one of the braver teens pointed at Nomura.

A second young man pulled a gun, aiming at the troll with shaking hands.

Nomura waited for him to fire at her. She smirked as his shot flew wide, and then she leapt in front of him. Her face not three inches from his terrified face, she licked her lips. "Hello, boys." She bared her teeth in a threatening grin and grabbed the gunman's hand, twisting it until he dropped the weapon. A swift punch sent him careening backward.

Nomura scooped up the gun and tossed it into the air, deftly catching it by the barrel. "Kids shouldn't play with such dangerous toys." She threw the weapon on the ground and stomped on it, crunching the gun into a hundred tiny pieces.

One more young man charged her from behind, knife drawn.

Nomura dodged. She grabbed his arm and tossed him away, ready for the next assailant.

A rush filled her, and she grinned, eyes glowing a fierce green. Teaching these low-lifes a lesson didn't even require her swords. They were so clumsy and uncoordinated, she landed each blow she took. With every strike, the swift rhythm of the fight sang through her like music.

Then it was over. Gang members scrambled away, some cradling injured arms, limping off, or holding bloodied noses.

"Pathetic," Nomura snorted.

A sob caught the troll's attention. Joan lay on the ground, curled into a ball, crying, shaking with fright.

It hadn't occurred to Nomura to be afraid, even with a gun pointed at her. She grasped for something to say as Joan sobbed. The troll took a step back.

When the girl's crying subsided, Nomura slowly approached. "Errhhhh… You… should go home." She shooed the young woman. "Go on."

Joan sat up and burst into tears again, sending Nomura leaping back three feet.

"Arh!" The troll shook her head. "Come on; girls your age shouldn't be out at this hour. Go home to bed."

Joan didn't get up.

"Go home," Nomura instructed again, pulling the girl to her feet.

Joan sank back to the concrete.

Nomura crossed her arms. "I'm not carrying you, now, get up and go."

"I can't!" Joan wailed. "Why?! Why did you do that?"

"Huh?" Nomura drew back.

"He was going to let me go–" Joan choked. "But he's lost face with his gang. He'll wait for me at home, and it'll be a lot worse now! Why did you have to butt in?" She pounded weak fists into Nomura's leg, the impact going unnoticed by the troll. "Why? WHYYYY?!"

"Have you tried going to the police?" Nomura suggested, puzzled.

"You trying to make me into a snitch?" Joan shot to her feet. "Don't you know what happens to snitches?" she shouted up into Nomura's face. "He'll kill me." Joan wilted, head in her hands, terror seeping over her. "He'll kill me…" she sobbed.

Another label from her past… Nomura gulped back the sour taste of those words: snitch… traitor… stepping out of line.

Recovering a little, Joan wiped her tears and eyed Nomura. "What's with the stupid costume? You supposed to be some kind of fey? Well, news flash – it's not Halloween yet."

Nomura raised an eyebrow.

"You idiot!" Joan punched Nomura again, harder this time. "Aaah!" She waved her stinging hand. "What the – Are you made of stone or something?!"

Nomura stared at her, silent.

Joan froze, her eyes falling to Nomura's hooves, then rising to take in the troll towering over her. Her gaze stopped on Nomura's stoic face.

The troll's eyes gleamed bright emerald in the darkness.

With a hesitant hand, Joan touched Nomura's stony chest. She jumped back. "What – What are you?"

Nomura remained silent.

Joan trembled and shook her head, eyes big. "No. It can't be real. Things like this aren't real," she insisted. "I know! You're animatronic." Joan pointed at Nomura. "This is just a really fancy remote-controlled robot. Right?"

Nomura narrowed her eyes.

"That… that's the only thing that makes sense…" Joan sniffed back more tears. "I just – What's happening?" She fell to her knees, crying. "I don't understand!" She lurched toward Nomura, startling the troll as Joan hugged Nomura's legs.

"Hey!" Nomura backed away, but Joan still clung to her.

"I'm – I'm scared!" Joan choked. "Help me! Please?"

"Stop that," Nomura demanded. "Let me go."

But Joan held on, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her plaintive brown eyes stared up into Nomura's face.

"I wanna go home," Joan bawled.

"Then go," Nomura insisted. "I already told you to do that."

"But he'll kill me!" Joan wept, shaking so hard, Nomura could feel her trembling radiate up through her leg.

Overwhelmed, Nomura stopped struggling against the girl.

Joan stank of fear – the kind that paralyzes and expunges every ounce of courage. Nomura knew that stench all too well. Laying a gentle hand on the girl's head, she said, "There, there… It's… going to be all right."

Joan still sobbed.

"Fine." Nomura sighed. "You can't go home. But you can't sleep out here either. Come with me."

Joan didn't respond.

Nomura shook her head and scooped up the girl. "Hang on." She draped Joan's arms around her neck.

Worn out, the girl obeyed, laying her warm cheek against Nomura's cold, stony back.

When Nomura reached her cave near outskirts of New Trollmarket, she eased Joan off her back. The girl sank into Nomura's bed, eyes fluttering open for a second before drooping closed.

Joan fought against her fatigue, forcing her eyes open one more time. "W-where… am… I? Josh! He'll find… me…"

"No one will find you here. You're safe," Nomura assured. "Go to sleep."

Joan's eyes fell shut. Her breathing slowed as she lay curled up in the troll's keep.

Nomura sat down beside her sleeping alcove with a sigh. "This idea is terrible," she muttered. "Send her back in the morning. Let the girl go and never look back. Easy."

She groaned.

Who was she kidding? This wouldn't be easy at all.


	12. Another world

Joan groaned…

She had the strangest dream. In it, a creature akin to a gargoyle took her deep underground to the world of the fey – like the storybooks. The creature hauled her on its back to a place filled with music and dancing.

Though the residents' appearance was strange, they were well-tempered, and much nicer than Josh and his gang.

The creatures danced around a roaring fire, gulping mugs of something called "grog."

Joan wished she could stay, but the waking world demanded her return. When she woke, these nighttime fantasies would disappear.

She stirred, cracking one eyelid only to frown. It was still dark. Only one small light illuminated the room. Joan blinked, clearing her sleepy eyes.

"Christian? You up?" she mumbled, fumbling for the edge of the bed, but instead of coarse sheets, her hand fell on cool stone. "What in the…?"

As her eyes adjusted, she discerned vague shapes. She lay on the ground, a blanket draped over her. A small pillow nestled beneath her head.

Joan sat up, rubbing her aching shoulder. Sleeping on hard surfaces always made her stiff. Usually she remembered where she'd fallen asleep.

With a shiver she draped the blanket around her shoulders.

Her dream flooded back – the creature taking her to another world…

She shook her head. It was just a silly dream.

Her eyes fell on the light's source. A stone. It glowed golden.

Joan hauled herself up and took the three steps to the stone. Her hand hovered over it. Warmth filtered through her fingers. She picked it up, turning it over, looking for the battery slot, or an on/off switch. Nothing.

Maybe it was luminescent? No, it was too bright. She shrugged and held it up like a flashlight.

Looking around, she noticed the posters papering the walls. Beautiful landscapes and breath-taking fantasy worlds stood on display.

Joan gasped as she recognized a poster from the theatre – Tristan and Isolde. The young lovers stood on a wind-swept ocean shore. Her eyes lingered on the image for half a minute before moving on to the rest of the room.

A table sat nearby, holding dozens of broken pottery pieces. The shards lay in even rows, arranged by shape or pattern. Joan picked up one piece and examined it, wondering what the fragments were for.

Worn books piled up against the far wall. Each salvaged volume represented a different subject: history, philosophy, science. Joan spotted Les Misérables tucked into a stack of epic novels.

"Ow!" she hissed, hopping back on one foot as pain shot up her leg. "Who put a rock here?" She looked at the floor. Shock sent her scrambling to the other side of the cave.

Sprawled on the floor, asleep, lay a creature, its hide rosy pink. Its pointed eyes, hooved feet, and smooth, black hair triggered Joan's memory.

The Proud Hogs… bothering her. Josh… this creature.

With a gasp, Joan dropped the glow-stone.

Her dream… was real.

Horrified, Joan stared at the sleeping creature. Was this… its home? Where were they? She saw no windows. Were they underground – like in her dream?

Joan's pulse pounded in her ears as her mind sharpened.

She remembered Josh, ready to cut her, and then this creature attacked him and gave the rest of the Punk Sharks a sound beating, its movements mesmerizing – dancelike.

Joan remembered the creature's grin – showcasing its neatly rowed, sharp teeth.

She crept toward the creature again. She knelt and reached out with a shaky hand to touch the brightly colored hide. Hard – just like stone. The ache in her foot made her grimace.

Without a sound, Joan got up and backed away.

She jumped at a loud clang. Half a second later, it was accompanied by a bang and two clunks. Joan inched toward the sound. A faint glow emanated from an opening in the far wall. Joan tiptoed to it. A short tunnel. She followed it and found herself outside the small cave. From a nearby overlook, she saw buildings, made of everything from Christmas lights to glow-stones – just like the one inside the cave.

Joan caught her breath. Creatures of all shapes, sizes, and colors milled in the streets below. Horns, fangs and tails sprouted from each one. Some of them walked upright while others bounded on all fours.

She leaned over the overlook railing, enthralled.

They acted just like she would expect a human community to: constructing new buildings, drinking from tall mugs, selling wares. She squinted at one vendor's booth, stifling a snort. Old, holed shoes?

Joan watched the vendor's exchange with one customer as he presented a shoe. The customer took it, examined it, and then nodded before paying for the shoe and stuffing it in its mouth. Joan stuck her tongue out and grimaced as the creature happily chewed its leather snack.

Her feet moved without her notice, taking her down to the city, all fear forgotten.

Joan knocked into one creature.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Oh! Sorry." She shrank away and looked up into glowing, golden eyes.

"It's okay." The big creature grinned at her. "Just be more careful." It shook its head. "Humans are silly."

Joan blinked in disbelief as the creature sidled away.

Two seconds later it whirled around. "Huh… human?" It stared at her again. "Aaaaarh! That's not one of our humans!" it bellowed, pointing at her.

Joan screamed and darted away, but the creature's alarmed yell followed her. "Human! Strange human intruder! Humaaaaan!"

All eyes fixed on her. She ran amidst the shouts of "Human!", "Get the flesh bag!", and "Intruder!" The creatures swarmed. Joan dodged swiping arms, legs, and tails.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm sorry – I'm sorry – I'm sorry!" A blank wall trapped her. Joan faced the approaching sea of creatures.

"Human!" one shouted. "Not one of ours!"

"I –" Joan's lip quivered. "I'm sorry!" She fell to her knees, holding her face in her hands, crying.

The crowd quieted. They stared at Joan as she sobbed, her small body shivering.

"What are you all looking at? Let me through. Get out of the way, I say! Out of the way!"

Joan dared a glance as a bombastic voice broke through the group. Another creature shoveled aside those in its way. The newcomer, by far the oddest looking of the bunch, was blue. Christmas lights dangled from the staff he grasped in one of his four hands. Six wide eyes stared at Joan.

The creature blinked, then gave her a soft smile. "What have we here…?"

Joan edged backward, bumping against the wall.

"It's all right, my dear," the creature assured. "We won't hurt you." He held up two of his hands. "Easy now. Take a deep breath. Relax."

Joan sucked in a shaky breath.

"Good. Just breath," the blue creature instructed, his voice kind. "We'll do it together, see? In –" He took a deep breath. "And out." He exhaled in tandem with Joan. "Very good. Feeling any better?"

Joan swallowed and nodded.

The creature smiled. "Perhaps you can tell me how you got down here?"

Joan gulped. "You… have six eyes."

"Indeed," it replied. "And they are excellent eyes. Why, how anyone manages with just two, I shall never understand."

Joan rose, her eyes never leaving the creature's face as she approached, hand extended.

The creature took a step forward, allowing her to touch his face.

Joan's fingers met warm stone. Unlike solid rock, his hide moved with his differing facial expressions. "Wow," she breathed as her fingers brushed his cheek and then his nose. "Just… Wow."

"You see, there's nothing to be afraid of," the blue creature offered. "I'm Blinkous Galadrigal, but most people call me Blinky." All six eyes blinked. "What may I call you?"

"I – I'm J-Joan," she stuttered. "This – this is unbelievable." She twined a strand of hair in her finger and uttered an expletive.

"Ahem! Language." The blue creature frowned. "I'll have you know this is a fine city, and we don't tolerate such language here!"

"Oh… I'm sorry." Joan glanced at the nearby heaps of trash, then looked back at Blinky, a smile tugging at her lips. "This… This is."

"Yes?"

"Incredible!" Joan exclaimed. "Like an old fairy tale! What is this place? Do you all live here?"

"We do indeed." Blinky motioned for her to follow him. "We can go elsewhere to talk." He squinted at the crowd. "Somewhere with fewer prying eyes."

Joan took a step and stumbled. Blinky caught her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes. I just… It's amazing… To think… there are people out there, living their entire lives dreaming about seeing something like this, and here I am – talking to a… whatever you are," Joan replied.

Blinky chuckled. "Why, I'm a troll, dear girl. Everyone here is a troll, excepting a few." He started through the crowd. It parted for him.

"A troll…" Joan breathed. "A real troll. I thought you lived on the internet."

"I'll have you know that sharing a name with those computer bullies is very offensive!" Blinky said. "Why, I never! A true troll has better things to do than post such vile things on the computer net. A troll is a creature of etiquette and courtesy."

The troll next to Joan burped and spit out half a steering wheel then picked his teeth with a bicycle spoke.

Joan looked from the mangled wheel to Blinky as the troll cleared his throat and said, "It's a very silly comparison."

Joan stifled a laugh.

"You seem to be doing better," Blinky commented. "That's good."

"This is like a dream," Joan said. "A whole other world… right under the city. It's… really nice."

"You think so?" Blinky asked.

Joan sighed. "Then again, anything is better than up there."

"I'm sorry?" Blinky glanced back at her.

"Never mind."

Blinky led her through the rest of the crowd. "Come, Ms. Joan. My keep is this way. We can talk more there."

"O-Okay." Joan stuck close to Blinky as they trekked through the troll city.


	13. Responsibility

Joan was vaguely aware of Blinky's guiding hand on her back as she walked through New Trollmarket. Everything about this place astounded her, and her mouth hung open in awe. She started to wander, but Blinky pulled her back.

Joan rubbed her eyes, but when she opened them she was still underground, walking through the magnificent troll city.

Blinky led her through the entrance to a small cave – his keep. By the warm light of a crackling fire and several lit lanterns, Joan saw piles of small appliances littered across the floor. In the corner sat a contraption cobbled together from the remains of a toaster, coffee pot, and noodle strainer. She stifled a laugh.

Beside the strange invention was a pile of multicolored stones. Bunches of herbs hung from a wooden pole strung across the back of the room. Two more stacks of rocks stood against the wall to Joan's right, framing a wide fireplace. To her left, rows of books – adorned with unfamiliar symbols – sat on shelves tacked up on the wall above a small table.

At the back of the room was another doorway, leading deeper into Blink's keep.

Joan wished she could spend a few days in this cave and explore every inch of it.

Blinky set his staff next to the hearth. "Please, have a seat." He pulled out a chair for her and shoveled aside a mess of junk.

"Oh… Thank you." Joan sat down in the offered wooden chair. It teetered, and she squeaked in surprise before finding a good balance point and sat up straight.

"You've accomplished quite a feat," Blinky said as he took a seat opposite Joan. "Managing to stumble all the way down here – and unnoticed."

"Heh." Joan blushed and tucked her hands under her legs. "You're… not going to erase my memory or anything like that, are you?"

Blinky gave a hearty laugh. "Of course not! That's not even possible!" He frowned and tapped his flat chin, a look of serious consideration on his face. "Is it?"

"Please don't," Joan pleaded. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my life."

Blinky folded two of his four hands on the table. "You have nothing to worry about, but I really need to know how you got in here. We can't just have humans stumbling in here at random. Surely you understand."

Joan nodded and looked away as she bit her lip. "I…" She swallowed hard. "You guys are trolls, right? I guess… a troll brought me."

"What?" Blinky sat up straight, his pointed ears pricked. "Who? You must tell me," he said with a frown. "This is a serious breach of security."

Joan looked away and slouched in her chair.

"Ms. Joan?"

She shook her head, eyes on the swept stone floor.

"You won't tell me?" Blinky's eyes widened. "Why?"

"I'm not a snitch," Joan retorted.

The troll blinked all six eyes. "A snitch? That's a human expression, isn't it?" He sighed. "Ms. Joan, please. This is important. Until only recently trolls were hostile to humans. If someone here is taking humans to hurt them, I must know so I can put a stop to it. You understand? This isn't just a risk for humans, but for trolls too. If something nefarious is afoot, our safety could be compromised."

"It – it's not like that. She… saved me," Joan replied.

"Oh, so it's a she. Now we're getting somewhere." Blinky raised a finger.

Joan took a sharp breath and looked toward the fireplace.

Blinky sighed again. "Ms. Joan, I will figure this out – one way or another. It would be much easier for everyone if you just tell me."

"You… won't hurt her, will you?" Joan dared a glance up at Blinky.

"First, I'll hear both of you out, so I understand the situation." He held up one hand. "I promise."

Joan looked into his eyes. The warm assurance in them eased her fear. "I… don't know her name… but… she's pink and has shining green eyes."

Blinky's six eyes shot wide.

"Her feet… she has hooves," Joan continued. "And long, black hair."

"Nomura?" Blinky gasped. "Why on earth would she–?"

"Nomura? That's her name?" Joan pulled her hands out from under her legs and set them in her lap.

Blinky nodded and pushed his chair back. "This is most troublesome," he muttered as he stood and rubbed his chin. "Most troublesome indeed." He started to pace.

"Please! You said you'd listen to her first!" Joan clenched her folded hands.

Blinky stopped and looked at Joan.

"You promised," she reminded.

Blinky's stern frown melted into a soft smile. "Of course, you're right, my dear. And if what you say is true, you have nothing to fear. Neither does she. I swear to you."

Hasty footsteps rang through the cave accompanied by a perturbed hiss.

"Ah." Blinky's eyes darted to the door. "Speak of the devil."

Joan turned around in her chair, hands peaking through the back slats.

"You," Nomura's voice rumbled with a low threat. "Why did you leave the keep?"

Joan drew back as she stared at the pink troll.

"Is staying put really so hard?" Nomura growled.

"And, pray tell, what did you intend to do with this human?" Blinky asked, all four arms folded.

"I never touched her, and I never intended to, I assure you," Nomura defended. "I was going to take her back to the surface and leave her. That's all."

"What…? Leave me?" Joan asked, hurt tinging her words.

"All right, but if you just intended to take her back, then what was the point of bringing her here in the first place?" Blinky countered.

"Don't lecture me, Blinkous!" Nomura shook a finger at Blinky. "You brought humans to Trollmarket too."

"Because Merlin's amulet chose him to be the Trollhunter. I would consider that a unique situation, wouldn't you?" Blinky shook his head and sighed. "Just tell me. Why did you bring her here? It's an easy question."

"Well…" Nomura visibly struggled. "She… It was just – "

"I told you already," Joan interrupted. "She saved me."

Both trolls looked at her.

"I… I…" Joan gulped.

Blinky eyed Nomura. "What happened?"

With a sigh, Nomura explained. "There are tribes of humans on the surface." She pointed upward. "They fight each other on the streets. Joan's own tribesman turned on her. One drew a knife and was ready to cut her."

"So, you jumped in," Blinky finished. "This is… surprising."

"What?" Nomura narrowed her eyes.

"You, of all trolls, involving yourself in other people's conflicts. That's not like you at all. You always keep to yourself."

"It was one time!" Nomura held up a single, clawed finger. "It won't happen again."

"I sincerely hope so. We can't afford to interfere with the humans. You do know that, right?" He clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh dear. I'm starting to sound like Vendel. Still, my job is to protect the trolls here. We cannot just bring humans to Trollmarket for any reason. You, of all people should understand this."

"I – I do…" Nomura hung her head. "I'm sorry."

Joan looked away too but caught Blinky's eyes flicking from her to Nomura.

"Well, what's done is done, I suppose," he said. "No changing it now."

"Please, don't leave me out there…" Joan folded her hands and gave Blinky a desperate look. "I beg of you!"

Both trolls stared at her again.

"I… I've got nowhere to go; I can't go home. Please?" Joan pleaded.

Blinky's face softened. "Very well."

"Huh?" Joan's eyes lit with hope. "Really?"

"Ms. Joan, as chief of New Trollmarket, I hereby grant you permission to come and go at your leisure," Blinky said. "Provided you promise never to expose the secret of trolls or Trollmarket to anyone! If you ever reveal this secret, I'm afraid I shall have to expel you. However, if you abide by this rule, you have nothing to fear."

Joan gaped. "You – really mean it?"

Blinky nodded. "I do."

With a sniff, Joan left her chair and rushed to Blinky. She buried him in a tight hug.

"You humans are so cute when you do this." He smiled.

Joan laughed and wiped tears of relief from her eyes. "Thank you, Blinky! Thank you so much!"

"Don't thank me," Blinky held up two hands. "You'll be Nomura's responsibility."

"What?!" Nomura protested. "What am I, a babysitter? I can't just–"

Blinky raised an eyebrow at the other troll. "You brought her here. The burden of watching over her rests on you. What she does, what she says while inside the boundaries of Trollmarket – it's your responsibility, Ms. Nomura."

Nomura took a grudging step back.

"Or, you can leave her outside, like you intended," Blinky suggested.

Joan's heart pounded.

"Hey! Don't put this on me!" Nomura's gaze returned to Joan, and she gave the troll her most sympathetic face, her misty, black eyes filled with pleading.

"Are you going to leave Ms. Joan out in the cold?" Blinky asked.

Nomura glared at him and crossed her arms as she took a single step forward. "All right. Fine! You can stay in my keep until the danger is passed. That's it – then you're out."

"But…" Joan fidgeted where she stood, next to Blinky.

"Don't test me," Nomura huffed. "Be glad I'm not going to break your neck for ratting me out."

Joan edged closer to Blinky and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Now, now, Nomura," Blinky chided as he stepped between Joan and the other troll. "Ms. Joan refused to tell me who brought her here. She was trying to protect you, so be nice."

Nomura raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm… not a snitch," Joan said.

Nomura let out a deep sigh. "Fine. Come on; you're going back to the keep with me."

"O – okay." Joan nodded and walked after her. "You… think maybe later I could see more of the city?"

"No. You're staying in the keep," Nomura replied. "You'll be safe there, and that's what matters, isn't it?"

"I guess so," Joan replied, downcast. "Um… Nomura?" She blushed.

"What?" the troll groaned.

"I – I'm… hungry."

Nomura shook her head. "Humans and their constant needs. Fine," she hissed. "I'll get you some food. Stay put this time."

Joan nodded. "Okay." She caught Nomura rolling her eyes as they headed back toward the secluded keep.


	14. Meetings

Joan walked around Nomura's little keep as she nibbled on a cheese sandwich. She didn't think she wanted to know where the troll got it, so she didn't ask.

Her eyes lingered on the poster of Tristan and Isolde again. The theatre… The blanket – the note… Could it be? Should she… try to talk to Nomura?

The troll sulked in the corner.

No. She shook her head. Questions burned inside her. She wanted so badly to go back down to the city – to see more. Even if most of the troll were arguably terrifying, they were also new – different from anything else Joan had ever seen, and that made them… kind of wonderful.

"Nomura?" a voice – a young man's? – called into the keep.

A second one – belonging to a girl – said, "Hello?"

Nomura groaned and faced the wall.

"Blinky said you rescued a human. We just wanted to see if it was true," the first person said.

Nomura rolled her eyes. "Bloody Trollhunter," she muttered.

Two people appeared in the entryway, and Joan took a surprised step back. A blue, troll-like figure with black hair and short horns accompanied a thin, normal looking young woman whose hair was also black, except for the single streak of white tucked into her bangs.

"Oh." The girl smiled at Joan. "Well, hello."

"H – hello," Joan stuttered back.

"Wow, Nomura, you really did do it," the troll said.

Joan stared at the visitor's armor. It reminded her of something out of a fantasy novel. Then there was his appearance.

"What is it?" the troll asked.

"You don't look like the other trolls," Joan remarked. "Your nose is different." She pointed to his face. "And your hands don't match." She indicated his four-digited hand paired with his human like one.

The troll smiled.

"And your eyes!" Joan gaped. "They're not glowing."

"You're very perceptive," the girl stepped forward. "Jim here is only half troll–" she patted his shoulder, "–the other half is human."

"What…? How does that work?" Joan crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a long story," the troll said. "I'm Jim Lake." He offered her a hand. "And you are…?"

Joan stared at his hand and then took it. "Joan Callas," she said.

"Claire Nuñez," the girl said. "Pleased to meet you."

Joan nodded to Claire. "You're human."

"For sure," Claire replied.

"Are there more humans down here?" Joan didn't know how she felt about other people knowing about this secret.

"Just me and Jim right now," Claire replied. "Oh, and Merlin."

"Merlin?" Joan whispered. No – it's got to be a nickname, she thought as Claire continued.

"There are only a few humans who know about trolls. You can almost count them on two hands, so those of us who know stick together. Welcome to the club."

"Only ten humans…? In the entire world?" Joan shook her head. "That seems unlikely."

"Well, only ten that I know of," Claire said. "Wait. Let me count. There's me and Jim." She held up two fingers. "Toby, Mom, Dad, Mrs. Lake, Nana and Merlin. Oh! And Eli, Steve and Darci." She looked over at Jim. "Does Mr. Strickler count as a human now?"

"Nah," Jim shook his head.

"Okay, so that makes…" Claire counted her fingers. "Eleven. And with you," she pointed at Joan, "it's twelve. Okay, so a little more than two hands, but close. Still not a lot." She smiled.

The list of unfamiliar names meant nothing to Joan, but she didn't ask any questions.

"So, how do you like it? Trollmarket, I mean," Claire said.

"It's… wonderful," Joan replied.

"I know, right? It's like another world – and it's ours." Claire grinned.

"I don't know," Jim said. "Sometimes you can get too much strangeness in your life."

"So, Joan," Claire took a step toward her, "how about a tour? You want to see more of Trollmarket?"

"Can I?" Joan gaped and turned to Nomura for permission.

"Whatever." Nomura waved her off. "Just don't get hurt. Blinkous will have my head, and I'm not in the mood for that."

"Don't worry," Jim assured with a smile. "We'll look out for her."

"Sure thing," Claire beamed. "It's going to be nice to have another human around here for a change. And you can tell us a little about yourself."

Joan looked away.

"Is – is something wrong?" Claire said.

"You don't have to ask about me. I'm… not very interesting." Joan let her gaze drift back to Claire. "I'd love to hear about Trollmarket though."

"All right." Claire motioned for Joan to follow her and Jim out of Nomura's keep. "Let's go."


	15. Strange new world

With Jim and Claire as her guides, Trollmarket was still intimidating, but not as scary. There were so many new things here.

She could swear she saw a tiny person dart across her path – a man with a beard, wearing a tall, pointy, red hat. He vanished behind a stack of crates. Joan followed.

Is this even possible? Am I losing my mind? She turned a slow circle and then shook her head. Then again, I am seeing trolls, so… Joan bent down and peered behind the crate.

The little man popped out, his wide mouth lined with sharp teeth as he jumped at her.

"Arghhh!" Joan stumbled back and hit the ground with an "Umph."

"Hey!" Jim jumped in and grabbed the tiny man. He held the toothy little guy up by his collar and glared at him. "What did I tell you guys about behaving?"

"Are you okay?" Claire knelt beside Joan.

Joan stared at the little man. "What – what is that?" She pointed.

"It's just a gnome." Jim sighed. "Most trolls consider them pests. They're sentient though, so I'm trying to help them get along with the trolls, but it's not always easy."

Joan pulled her knees up to her chest. "Heh. So, gardening gnomes aren't the only kind, huh?"

The tiny man in Jim's hand hissed and waved his short arms as he spouted something akin to words, but Joan couldn't understand him.

"They don't like being compared to garden gnomes." Jim smirked. "They think humans are trying to insult them." He addressed the gnome. "Calm down. There's nothing to see here. Go on home." He set the gnome down. It gave an offended huff and then skittered off.

Joan looked after the little creature in wonder.

"You're adjusting pretty well," Claire said as she helped Joan up.

"This is just… so wonderful," Joan said in awe. "Trolls… gnomes… Do dragons exist too?" She looked up at the high cavern ceiling.

"Oh, I sure hope not," Jim groaned.

"Why?" Joan asked.

Jim shook his head. "Because if they do, I'm sure I'll probably end up having to fight one someday. A big, giant one that spits fire and grabs me with its huge claws as it flies away. And it'll probably have a secret ability nobody except Blinky knows dragons have, and he'll forget to tell be about it – like it drools acid or something."

"Yeah…" Claire sighed.

Joan stared at the half-troll and his shiny armor. Nobody else here wore armor. "Are you… some sort of warrior?"

"Jim is the Trollhunter," Claire said, the light of pride glowing in her eyes as she stood next to him. "He's the champion and defender of Trollmarket, and he's already a legend! He defeated Gunmar the Black and saved Arcadia."

"Who?" Joan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh… Well…" Claire paused as Jim gave her an amused glance. "Well, this… really bad troll," Claire said. "And I mean really bad, and strong – so strong no other Trollhunter could defeat him – not even Kanjigar the Courageous. At first, it was just his servants, the Changelings. Then they took my brother, Enrique, then there was Angor Rot! Strickler just didn't know when to give up. Then Jim went to the Darklands, and then he got out – Gunmar got out, I mean – and he took over Trollmarket and there was a war, and we had to go find Merlin, and I was possessed, and then there was that last battle." Claire sucked in a long breath. "It was pretty crazy for a while."

"Wh - what?" Joan stuttered. The flood of information rolled over her, too deep to comprehend it all at once.

"You had to be there, I think…" Jim said.

"Wait, no, I was possessed first, wasn't I? Then we had to find Merlin." Claire tapped her chin then crossed her arms and frowned.

Joan stared at Claire at this second mention of Merlin.

"You okay?" Jim said.

"I'm just… trying to process all this… Trolls, gnomes, possession? A guy you keep calling Merlin – like in King Arthur?"

"Erh… yeah," Jim said. "Like in King Arthur."

"Exactly like King Arthur actually," Claire added with an awkward smile.

"Wait… What?!" Joan's eyes flew open wide. "You're not telling me – You mean, the actual Merlin? You know him? The one from the legends?"

Jim nodded. "He's ten minutes' walk that way." He raised a thumb over his shoulder.

"Yeah… he lives here," Claire confirmed.

"Hey, don't make fun of me!" Joan protested. "I'm new to all this," she gestured around the cavern, "but it's not nice to just tell me stuff to see how gullible I am."

"We're not lying. Seriously," Claire said. "Merlin was asleep for a thousand years, so, well… he had no place to go when he woke up, and now he's here with us."

Joan gaped.

Jim cleared his throat. "I would invite you to go see him, but he really doesn't like visitors – especially uninvited ones."

Joan frowned. "But… isn't Merlin supposed to be nice?"

Jim snorted.

"What?" Joan crossed her arms.

"Merlin… Heh… Nice probably isn't the word to describe him," said Claire. "He's… actually kind of mean."

"And condescending," Jim added. "He talks down to everybody; it's annoying."

"I suppose he is the greatest magician who ever lived," Claire said with a sigh. "But Morgana might be the exception to that."

"Arthur's bane?" Joan breathed.

"Huh?" Jim and Claire chorused.

"You are talking about Morgan le Fay, right? Merlin's apprentice – Arthur's half-sister, born out of wedlock. She was filled with such a strong lust for vengeance that she didn't just kill Arthur but turned him onto a devastating path. She took his pride, and then destroyed his legacy."

Jim and Claire both stared at her.

"It… isn't that Morgana." Joan shivered.

"No – that's the one," Claire replied. "I just didn't know all that about her."

"Me neither," Jim said. "I should have read up on those legends better."

"She killed Arthur?" Claire said.

Joan nodded. "According to the legends, at least. I mean – from what I remember anyway." She scratched her cheek and bit her lip.

"So, you like legends and fairytales?" Claire asked.

Joan blushed and looked away.

"I think that's cool. You probably already know more about this world than I do," Claire said.

Joan kept her eyes on the ground.

"You all right?" Jim asked. "You need to go lay down?"

Joan shook her head.

"Wanna see more of Trollmarket?" Jim said.

Two gnomes scooted past Joan's feet. One hauled a shiny, red button on his back and the other shook his little fist and chittered as he tried to catch the trinket thief.

Joan nodded to Jim.

"I don't know that much about the other creatures living out there," Jim admitted. "But Blinky does, and I'm sure he would be more than happy to tell you. In fact, be careful with that. You might have a hard time getting him to be quiet. He loves to talk."

Jim and Claire led Joan farther into Trollmarket.

Joan glanced up at her guides. "What about… Nomura?"

"Oh." Jim looked to be at a loss. "Well… Nomura is – She – has some difficulties."

Joan gave him a questioning look as they passed a vendor stall with a picture of a smelly sock plastered above it.

"I mean – I don't think Nomura would hurt you – or anyone. She's just… She doesn't like to talk much – to anyone. She's had a rough time."

"How so?" Joan said as they passed what looked like a small tavern.

"That's complicated, and I'm not just saying that to get out of talking about it." Jim sighed. "You don't need to be afraid of her. Just… he nice. I know she can be difficult."

Joan stared at a cart heaped with balls of old, hard gum. Next to it stood a tower of dirty tires.

"Joan?" Claire tapped her shoulder.

"What? Oh!" Joan looked up. "Please, show me more."

"This way," Claire smiled and beckoned her down another street.

Joan tried to enjoy the amazing sights and sounds of Trollmarket, but as she passed each shop and house, Nomura's terrifying words echoed in her head. "You can stay in my keep until the danger is past. That's it. After that, you're out!"

What's going to happen to me? Would Nomura just dump me back on the street after a couple days? Joan ducked behind a pile of rusty tin cans for a second and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe I can convince Blinky to let me stay. Or maybe Jim, or Claire? She took a deep breath and stepped back into the street.

Jim and Claire were talking to a giant purple troll. He laughed and straightened his piles of broken silverware.

No… They don't know me. They're just acting nice, but they won't stay that way for long… No one ever does. Joan slowed her pace and stuffed her hands in her pockets. They'll throw me out eventually. That's just how the world works.

"Joan! Come on; you've got to see this juggler up ahead of us," Jim called back. "He's got two swords and a lit torch in the mix."

Joan pasted on a smile. "Be right there."


	16. Prisoner

It's impossible to tell time down here. Joan shook her head. Has it been a day? Two days? I don't know anymore. I wish Jim and Claire were here, so I could go explore Trollmarket some more. She sighed. If Nomura trusted me to go out alone, I could just look at everything, but no, I have to stay in the keep.

She glanced over at Nomura. The troll was standoffish and brusque, but she always made sure Joan was taken care of. She even found a mattress for Joan to sleep on and gave her fresh food and clean clothes.

Sometimes Nomura threatened other trolls, but she never made good on it.

You can be really harsh. Joan thought as she watched Nomura stare up at the grey ceiling. Maybe that's why the other trolls look at you weird. You're off in your own little corner.

Joan remembered one incident when several trolls saw Nomura coming and ducked out of the way. As she and Nomura passed the group, Joan heard whispers. She looked at the trolls, expecting to see them staring at her, but found them eyeing Nomura instead.

I know you're different from them. I get it. That's what high school's like for me – everybody staring, whispering – saying mean things about me…

Joan studied the Tristan and Isolde poster again. She crossed her legs and propped her elbows on her knees.

"Nomura…?"

"What? Hungry again?" The troll snorted.

"No… I just – Do you – I mean – Do you like opera?!" She didn't mean for the last part to come out in a high-pitched squeak.

Nomura's green eyes went wide.

Joan looked away.

"Well… I do… appreciate it," Nomura said.

"Were you the one who… I mean…" She bit her lip. "'Stay true to thyself and who cares what others think'? It was you, wasn't it?" She pointed at Nomura. "You were there! At the theatre! You left that note and you…" She covered her open mouth. "No – Don't tell me you–" Joan sucked in a hard breath. "You watched me sing, didn't you?!"

"So, what if I did?" said Nomura.

Joan flew to her feet. "You can't just do that!" She crossed her arms. "But it was only one time, right? You just happened to find me?"

Nomura stared at the pile of pottery shards on her table. "Well… I stumbled upon you a few months ago."

Joan felt the blood drain from her face.

Nomura snorted. "You sure like to come there and pretend to be a little diva."

"Don't make fun of me!" Joan scolded. "And don't just watch me sing without me knowing you're there. That's creepy!"

Nomura raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want anyone to hear me sing, all right. I know it's stupid. You don't have to say it." Joan hung her head.

"Don't put words in my mouth, whelp," Nomura chided, a little annoyed.

"It is stupid… I know… I just…" Joan sighed.

Nomura turned stern eyes her way. "Stupid? Why do you think it's stupid?"

"Because–" Joan began. "Because I'm not a singer, and if I'm going to be a singer, it won't be that kind. Their world isn't for people like me."

"And why not?" Nomura challenged.

"Because… I – I'm just a lowlife street kid, all right!" Her blunted fingernails bit into her arms. "All those rich elites – they don't care about us!"

"'Us'? 'Them?' Ditch those. You're not a group or a tribe. You're you! What is it you want, Joan Callas? Who are you? Do you really want what 'they' give you? Your tribe? From what I've seen, they're just wardens keeping you from escaping your prison cell." With a snort, Nomura added, "Sounds lovely."

Joan eyed the dark ceiling and swallowed hard. "But… I don't know what to do without them…"

Nomura's hooves clicked on the stone floor, and she settled a hand on Joan's head.

"When you're under someone else's control for so long and then find your freedom… it's hard to figure out what to do on your own, I know." Nomura removed her hand as Joan looked up at her. "If you want to escape the 'they's' and 'us's' you have to use your own two feet and stand up for yourself. No one's going to do it for you. If you want to live, you have to fight."

Joan sat, face in her hands.

Nomura uttered a quiet huff and settled beside her.

"I… I don't think I have it in me," Joan said. "I mean, what's the point?"

"Don't ask me. How should I know?" Nomura rolled her eyes. "I spend so much time appeasing my wardens, I don't know what I'd do without them. Without a prison to keep me in check, I'd be lost. You don't want that."

Joan looked up at the troll again with her wide, brown eyes.

"No! Shut up!" Nomura held up a hand. "You humans are pathetic," she said, even though Joan hadn't uttered a word. The troll stood and headed for the keep entrance. "Eat something. We're going out tonight."

"Out? Where?"

"Don't ask stupid questions." Nomura left with one last, heavy huff.


	17. A dream

Joan clung to Nomura's back as the troll leapt from building to building in a zig-zag across the dark, Jersey town. She closed her eyes and stifled a scream.

Nomura jerked to a stop, and Joan cracked open one eye.

Her stomach jumped as she saw the city lights, and the ground – over fifty feet below. Before she could look away, Nomura pushed off the high-rise. Joan screeched, squeezed her eyes shut, and counted, first to one hundred, then two.

When she reached one thousand, Nomura said, "Relax. We're here."

Joan dared a look. A roof top?

Nomura kicked open a trapdoor and slipped inside, Joan still on her back. The troll dropped onto a beam, hung above a familiar stage.

I've never seen it from up here… Joan's breath caught as Nomura took two careful steps. I wonder if the dressing-room window is still unlocked. To Nomura, she whispered, "So, this is how you got in when you listened to me?"

Nomura nodded.

Great security they have here.

Below, the lights were up. Joan was so used to seeing the theatre in the silent darkness, she almost didn't recognize the filled orchestra pit and plush seats holding dozens of men and women, dressed in their best evening attire. The people chatted and laughed as the orchestra tuned their instruments.

Deep red curtains hid the stage, but a boat bow jutted out one side and a clump of fake trees the other.

Her heart beat harder as Nomura glided along the beam to the rear of the theatre and let Joan slide off her back.

She sucked in a gasp at the steep drop separating her from the audience.

"Best seats in the house," Nomura said as she settled onto the beam.

"Erhh." Joan gulped and took a short step. She wind-milled both arms as she lost purchase on the smooth beam, but Nomura's strong hand pulled her steady.

"You might want to sit," Nomura quipped.

Joan nodded and eased down. She pulled her feet up and hugged her knees to her chin as the orchestra started their last round of tuning.

"You're lucky," Nomura said. "Today the French Paris Opera is playing. They've been on a world tour, so they'll only be here for one performance; tomorrow they move on to New York for three nights."

Joan's surprised gaze shot to Nomura.

"Tonight, it's Wagner's The Valkyrie," Nomura said. "An excellent piece. In fact, it may be one of the best I've heard. And I was there when the first opera was written!" Light sparked in Nomura's eyes.

"I've never… seen a real show before…" Joan breathed. A warm tingle spread through her; curiosity and excitement flooded after it. Joan scooted a little closer to the beam's edge and leaned forward.

"Easy there," Nomura hauled her back. "If you get too far away and slip, I can't catch you."

"Sorry." Joan blushed.

Instruments and audience quieted. The lights went down, and Joan gasped as the full, mellow strain of strings swelled through the theatre. As the rest of the orchestra joined in, the curtains opened. A man stumbled across the stage and clutched his arm as he searched the area.

"That's Sigmund," Nomura said. "He's in enemy territory. A storm's coming, so he's looking for shelter."

Sigmund sang as he wandered. Once he found a place to hide from the weather, a young woman stepped on stage and sang with him.

"She's Sieglind, the wife of Hunding – owner of the land and house. Sieglind allows Sigmund to rest there, but tells him he must leave before her husband returns, or Hunding with kill Sigmund."

Joan sat, enraptured as the pair sang to each other.

Throughout the show, Joan couldn't pry her eyes from the stage, but she caught glimpses of Nomura out of the corner of her eye. The troll seemed to look at her more often than the performers with quick, nervous glances, as though Nomura feared Joan would catch her looking.

Throughout the show, the troll provided explanation.

Joan was so enthralled, she forgot her fear of falling and leaned forward several times only to be hauled back by Nomura. She gasped and pointed at least five or six times during the first act alone, exclaiming, "Nomura, look! Do you see that?"

The troll smiled each time and replied, "I see it."

Music washed over Joan. Its power banished all words. Sometimes, she closed her eyes and let out a contented breath as she sank into its depths. Violins, cellos, trumpets, they all carried with them the story unfolding on stage, and each emotion rolled over her like a fresh ocean wave.

When the last note died, the audience cheered and shot to their feet. Applause deafened Joan, and she clapped with the sea of people below.

The orchestra stood and took a bow as the cast filed on stage and did the same three times.

As the lights came back up and the audience left, Joan swallowed the last rush of excitement.

"Well, you seem like you had a good time," Nomura said.

With misty eyes, Joan replied, "It was… the most wonderful thing I've ever seen; even more wonderful than…"

"What?"

Joan blushed and hid her face. "It was… a while ago. I walked to city centrum – no real reason, I just wanted to get away. No gangs out in centrum – just in the city outskirts. I was walking around, and then I… heard singing – to music. It was amazing." She stared out into the empty theatre. "I got closer, and there was this lady. A violin player was with her. The lady was tall and elegant. She wore this amazing dress; it was so white it glittered, like snow. A matching crystal flower was in her hair. As she sang…" Joan hugged her knees to her chin again. "She was so beautiful, dignified. I wanted to be like her. She made me forget – showed me another world. Can you imagine? Being able to take people to different places?" Sadness filled her. "But that's all a dream… isn't it?" She stared at the neat semi-circles of folded-up seats and the empty stage. "That down there… It was so wonderful; but it's only a play." Joan looked at Nomura in time to catch her smirking. "Hey! Don't laugh!"

"No, you don't understand. It's just… It was the same for me," Nomura said. She nodded to the stage. "That's the thing you want, isn't it?"

"Maybe…" Joan muttered. "Not like it's ever going to happen though."

"Why not?" Nomura said.

"Because, those people, they're not like me. I'm not – I can't even sing properly. I–" She hung her head. "I'm no good."

Nomura huffed and crossed her arms. "Now listen here, precious! You said you want to be like that woman you saw – able to transport people to another world, away from their troubles." The troll's tone softened. "You've already done that. I… heh… Your song helped me get through some stuff."

Joan gaped. "Are you serious?"

With a nod, Nomura said, "You have potential, kid. Your technique and skill need work – a lot of work, but you've got sincerity and a great voice. And opera, more than anything, is about emotion – getting that feeling across. Now, you can't hit the highest notes – that you can learn – but… you sure can give a song life, and that's not a talent everyone has. You can do great things… if you want to."

"You… really think so?" Joan said.

Nomura nodded again. "Would take a lot of work though."

"What do I have to do?"

"So, you want to try?"

"I've never wanted anything so much in my life," said Joan. "But… I don't know where to start."

"Well, I… suppose I could help."

Joan stared at the troll.

Nomura gathered her hooves and stood. "I mean – I'm not a singer myself, I just–"

"I would like that. Please." Joan stood up on the wide beam.

Nomura took a deep breath. "All right. I'll see what I can do."

Heedless of the drop below, Joan threw her arms around Nomura as tears ran down her cheeks.

The troll stiffened. "Eh?! Hey! Don't do that!"

"Sorry." Joan let her go.

Nomura patted Joan's head. "It's okay, I'm just not… very good at human things like touching and," she shivered, "kissing, hugging – all that. Count me out."

"Fair enough," Joan said. "I don't really like people touching me either."

Nomura glanced at the digital clock stationed in the orchestra pit. "We need to get back soon. Do you want to go now, or stay for a while?"

"Can we stay – just for a bit?" Joan replied.

Nomura nodded. "Sure."

"Thank you." Joan said as Nomura sat and closed her eyes. Joan did the same, and the pair basked in silence as the moment of bliss filled them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me Wagner's the Valkyrie or "Die Valkyrie." as the original German title is, is in many ways the quintessential opera.
> 
> When you think of grand epic operas, with huge ensembles and epic, larger-than-life stories, it is probably a Wagner opera you are thinking about without even realizing it as these are the operas depicting very epic tales with big epic music.
> 
> The big ships, people wearing Viking helmets, large casts, the tale being extremely epic about wars and countries and, of course, two people across enemy lines being in love. That's all Wagner for the most part.
> 
> In comparison, Mozart operas often have a very modest cast of only five or six people and often lack the more epic storytelling, but tell smaller, more character-based stories. Don Giovanni for instance is just a very simple tale of a man wasting his life drinking and leading pure women astray, then at last when he refuses to repent is dragged to hell.
> 
> This also means that Mozart's work tends to be subtler while Wagner is far more grandiose, and while a Mozart production can be small with a moderate small cast, a Wagner production will be simply huge, when done properly that is.
> 
> I chose The Valkyrie for Joan to see as it is such a big and epic opera that takes you to a grand fantasy world.
> 
> Many other operas do tend to be far more somber with a smaller story scale, ironically, as what I find great about opera is that they can tell larger-than-life stories.


	18. Guttentag

Learning German, a Beginner's Guide. The title – which Joan almost didn't finish reading – barely took up half the thick book spine. Joan hefted it with difficulty and let the volume thump back to the table.

Joan started to ask if the troll was serious, but the stern look on Nomura's face stopped her.

"Well." Nomura crossed her arms and nodded toward the book. "Get to it."

"But… it's German…" said Joan.

"Yes." Nomura rolled her eyes and huffed.

"German." Joan repeated as she tapped a large glow-stone near her hand. "How on earth will German make me a better singer?"

"You must be able to understand what you're singing," Nomura said. "I assumed German would be an easier place to begin than French."

"French?! You want me to learn French? Why?"

"German and French are two primary languages used in opera, precious." Nomura rolled her eyes again. "And the way you pronounce French is awful – it sounds like gibberish."

"Can't I just learn how it's supposed to sound and memorize it?" Joan protested.

Nomura tapped Joan's forehead and then jabbed it with one stiff finger.

"Ow!" Joan rubbed the sore spot.

"How will you act? Interpret? At the very least, you must learn basic German and French! After that, we'll work on your posture, breathing, and vocal range."

Joan groaned and mumbled, "That sounds like a lot of work."

"Of course!" Nomura retorted. "If you want to be good, you must work for it, precious."

Joan pouted, but as she thought it over, understanding set in, and she gave Nomura a subtle glance.

"What?" Nomura said.

"If I'm going to learn German and French, and you're going to teach me… that'll take a long time, won't it?"

"Obviously," Nomura snorted.

"So… I can stay here for a while… right?"

Nomura eyed her, and Joan fidgeted under the troll's gaze.

"Whatever," Nomura shrugged.

Is that a yes or a no? Joan waited.

"I'm not going to dump you outside if that's what you're asking," Nomura said. "Behave and do as I say! Am I clear?"

Joan gasped, and her eyes misted as she swallowed the knot in her throat.

"What?" Nomura said.

"Sorry. I…" Joan wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

"Huh? Well…" Nomura looked away. "Urgh. Just do what I say!"

"Okay." Joan nodded.

 

 

Jim sat in the shadows that bathed the entrance to Nomura's keep. Is this really happening? It's… incredible.

"Hey, Jim!"

He stifled a surprised yelp. "Claire!" he said in a loud whisper. "Ssssh."

His girlfriend smirked. "What are you doing?"

Jim shushed her again. "In there." He inclined his head toward the voices.

The pair peaked around the curve in the entry way. Nomura and Joan sat at the table, studying a thick book.

"Guttentag. Wie gets?" Joan pronounced carefully.

"Remember, pronounce those syllables," Nomura instructed. "Gut-Ten-Tag!" she emphasized. "Germans love those hard consonants."

"Gendered words…" Joan shook her head. "Why on earth would you call a chair her and a skirt he?"

"Just wait until we start French. Talk about illogical," Nomura said.

"Oh, my goodness," Claire whispered. "This is wonderful!"

"Ssssh!" Jim warned.

"Sorry." Claire whispered. "But that reminds me, Mr. Strickler is going to quiz us tomorrow; we should probably go over our own stuff again."

"Yeah, we should."

"Joan should join us sometime," Claire suggested.

"Doesn't she have her own school?" said Jim.

"Probably, but we should still ask her. Come on." She pulled him away from the keep entrance. "Let's not disturb them."

The pair headed for Claire's little house, nestled near the east end of New Trollmarket.


	19. Monsters

Joan practiced her assigned scales, and Trollmarket's stony tunnel walls echoed with each note. "Do re mi fa so la ti doooo!" She savored the lingering high. Just for fun, she reversed the order. "Do ti la so fa mi re do." Each time she practiced, her confidence grew.

Now armed with the courage to leave Nomura's keep alone – without the troll's disapproving glance or unhappy growl – she felt much more empowered.

A few days ago, she and Nomura found a suitable mattress and hauled it back to the keep. A poster from the Valkyrie performance livened up her little corner, and as she drifted off to sleep most nights, it gazed down at her while Nomura's soft music played. Bundled in her warm cocoon, Joan could relax. Unlike home, here no one hit her. There was no yelling, fighting or drugs in the other room. The strange, pink troll protected her, and Joan knew she was safe in the keep.

She ended her song and let silence take the room.

"Don't stop. Please continue."

Joan snapped toward the low rasp. "Who's there?"

A sliver of dark green shuffled in the corner, and Joan blushed. I thought that was a really ugly chair.

Six glowing eyes, milky gray, and much like Blinky's opened. As the troll stepped into a patch of light, his unruly, spiked hair and green hide gave Joan pause. A gold earring hung from his right ear, and his expression unsettled her.

"Come on. Sing. It's the only escape I get these days."

"Who are you?" Joan scooted back two feet.

"Typical," the green troll huffed. "I'm Dictatious Galadrigal. I'm sure you've already met my brother."

"Blinky's your brother?" said Joan. "Oh, that makes sense. I'm sorry I didn't see you standing there."

"Don't apologize, child. Just sing. Listening gives me something to do." Dictatious retreated into the corner.

"I'm sorry?"

Dictatious sighed and pointed to his eyes. "I'm blind you see. Brother dear robbed me of my sight."

"He did what? Why?" Joan said.

"Brothers quarrel. It's nothing that need concern you." Dictatious sighed. "However, without my sight, there's so little to do. I used to read, even write, but without sight…" He sighed again. "I can't even help raise buildings or participate in the lookout rotation – obviously." He rolled his eyes. "So, here I am, stuck in this corner day after day. It's quite boring."

"That's awful," Joan said as she ventured toward Dictatious. Blinky took his sight? But Blinky seems so nice. "Can they do anything about your eyes?"

"Not really. I do what I can – find the darkest place to rest my poor eyes. That's why I'm here. Even the lights of Trollmarket strain them." With another sigh, Dictatious sat. "So, tell me, what is a human doing down here?"

"You can tell I'm human?"

Dictatious smirked and sniffed. "I can't see, but I'm not nose-blind. Such a skinny one. Barely a meal."

Joan shivered and backed away.

"Young." Dictatious licked his lips but then his face fell. "But brother dear decided we're not allowed to eat humans. So, that's that I suppose."

The genuine dismay in the troll's eyes rattled her.

"No need to be frightened, child." Dictatious grinned. "Yes, I smell your fear. It's a most delicious scent. I'm not a hunter, but with such lovely, tempting fear in the air…"

Joan swallowed hard. "C-can all trolls smell fear?"

"Of course, they can." Dictatious nodded. "But you needn't worry. Blinkous was quite clear. Eating humans is forbidden. If I step out of line, I fear he will have my head. I'd swear he doesn't care about me at all. He takes things much too personally. I only tried to kill him once! And I only tortured him a little." He held up two thick fingers, spread a quarter of an inch. "What's a little torture between brothers, eh?"

No wonder he took your sight. "I… should get going," Joan said.

"Do stay!" Dictatious replied. "This is the most fun I've had in ages. No one wants to talk to me. It's so boring."

"I'm sorry…" Joan inched away, her eyes fastened on Dictatious.

"I can't harm you. I can't even see you," he said. "Keep me company. I'll tell you about Blinkous when he was a runt – such a do-gooder, even then."

"That's all right. Maybe some other time." She shuffled back the way she came.

Dictatious frowned and crossed his arms. In a pout, he said, "Here I am, ready to let you in on such interesting secrets, and still you back away. How ungrateful. At least allow me a better look at you."

"But… You can't see," said Joan.

"Come closer. Let me sense you." When Joan made no move to obey, he added a plaintive "please?"

Joan hesitated but did as he asked. Instant regret hit as a stony hand grabbed her arm, and she screamed.

Dictatious shushed her as his fingers bit into her skin. "You're far too comfortable in Trollmarket, my dear. You think this is a place of fairytales? It's a place of monsters!"

"Please, let me go!" Joan begged.

"I'm just worried about you." Dictatious grinned. "You should take better care of yourself. It's dangerous down here." He let her go, and Joan stumbled away. "You think the ones upstairs are monsters? Hah! Don't make me laugh. They are children – amateurs, but the one you live with – oh boy."

Joan rubbed her sore arm.

"She eats fools like them for breakfast," Dictatious hissed.

Joan ran.

Dictatious's chuckle stalked her. "Well, that was fun." Then he muttered, "And now I'm bored again."


	20. Blowing off the lid

It was hard not to stare at Nomura. Whenever the troll opened her mouth, jagged rows of teeth appeared, and her fingers were long and sharp like claws. The way she fought off the Punk Sharks… It was so easy, like a game.

Most trolls in New Trollmarket were gigantic and far stronger than Joan. Every time she saw one of them, it reminded her how small and weak she was. Any one of the trolls here could squash her in less than a second, even Blinky, one of the smaller of the lot.

"Hey!" Nomura snapped her fingers in Joan's face. "Are you listening? Concentrate!"

The squiggly mish-mash of German words and phrases stared up at her from the book that lay open on Nomura's table. The contents might as well be differential physics they looked so foreign.

"I told you to concentrate!" Nomura hissed.

"I am!"

"Then what's your problem?!" Nomura's eyes flashed intense, unhappy green.

"This just doesn't make any sense!" Joan protested.

"It would if you'd listen," Nomura retorted. "Or am I wasting my time?"

"No!" Joan stood up. Her chair scraped the stone floor and sent a harsh ring through the keep.

"Then what did I just say?" Nomura crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"I… don't know…" Joan sank back into her chair as Nomura gave her an insulted huff. "I'm sorry, all right! But this is stupid! German? French? Down here? What's the point?"

"Well, if you aren't willing to work for it, there is no point," Nomura replied.

"Work for what?" Joan demanded. "We're underground! This is stupid! It's all stupid!"

Nomura leapt out of her chair, and Joan screamed as the troll grabbed her from across the table. "Listen, precious. I don't have to do this. I don't even have to let you stay here. If you want to go back to your dear mother that's fine with me!" The troll let go of her and pointed to the keep entrance. "Just go!"

Tears blurred Joan's vision.

"And if you think blubbering will help you, you're wrong," Nomura hissed.

"You're not even giving me a choice," Joan sniffed. "As if you could possibly know how it is! I didn't ask to be born into that. I just was! You walk down the street, and everyone looks down on you, calls you awful things just to make sure you know you don't belong. And it isn't because of anything you did. It's just… because of what you are." She swallowed the anger that knotted in her throat.

Nomura took a fistful of Joan's blouse and stood. "You sure talk big, precious," she said as Joan's feet hung three inches above the floor. "But you're letting this go to your head. You talk as if you know everything, but you're so ignorant. You can make your own destiny, but you ignore that. Why?" Nomura's eyes searched Joan's. "It's because you're ungrateful."

Joan held her breath as she dangled, and when Nomura set her down, she collapsed and fought off her tears.

The troll shut the book with a loud thump and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Joan said.

"I believe we're done here," Nomura said. "If you won't fight for yourself, there's no point."

"Well, fine! See if I care!" Joan called after her, but Nomura left without saying another word.

Loneliness filled the empty keep, and Joan shivered in the cool air. What now? She held her face in her hands. "Is this my fault? Why does everything have to be so confusing?"


	21. Afraid

How dare she? How dare Nomura lecture me – like she knows anything! Joan stormed out of the keep and into the surrounding caves. But… is she actually angry with me…? Will she throw me out? She kicked the tunnel wall and cried. Why do I have to ruin everything? No, this is Nomura's fault!

Two dozen twists and turns later, she stopped and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Should I… apologize to Nomura? I don't even know how to do that. She shook her head and wandered further into the tunnels.

Later – two, maybe four hours; she wasn't sure – Joan found a little shelf carved into the wall. She curled up and slept. When she woke, she didn't know what time it was. Without the help of the sun, it was always hard to tell if it was day or night.

I've gotta go back… Joan gritted her teeth and ran her fingers through her thick hair. She got up and started home. Every step seemed heavier than the last, and she hung her head. The knot in her chest tightened as she neared the keep.

When she stepped through the door, she whispered, "N – Nomura? You there?" She searched the space, but the keep was empty.

Oh, no! She is angry with me. Is she out in the city? Should I go look? But she travels on roofs and in sewers… Joan called again, "Nomura? Nomura, look, I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said. I just – I was frustrated, okay?"

No response.

"NOMURAAAAA!"

Quick, heavy footsteps echoed behind her. "Joan?"

She swallowed and turned to see the Trollhunter. "Jim. Have you seen Nomura? I said some… things… Bad things… I… guess… I mean…"

"What? And right before–" Jim sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. Nomura won't be back for a while. She's gone on… erh… this… mission – kind of."

"What mission? Where?"

"Arcadia Oaks," Jim said. "There's this friend of our who's under attack, and he asked Nomura to help him. She left the moment she got his call." He sighed. "I wanted to go too, but our friend said I shouldn't come."

"Arcadia Oaks? I've never heard of that place. Is it far?"

"It's in another state – on the other side of the country," said Jim. "But it's all right. Nomura can handle herself, and she'll be back. Until then, why don't you bunk with me and Claire." He beckoned her to follow him out of the keep.

"I… don't know…" Joan took a step back.

"You all right?"

Joan looked away.

"You don't look so good. If something's wrong, you can tell me – or Claire if you want," he said. "I guess girls are better at that kind of thing anyway."

When Joan didn't reply Jim laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come on. It's all right," he said as he led her out of the keep.

Joan went.

It was a five-minute walk to the little hut Jim shared with Claire.

Neither the Trollhunter nor his girlfriend knew quite what to do with their odd guest. Two days later Joan still sat on her borrowed mattress, legs crossed, arms folded, her face twisted in frustration.

Jim and Claire realized they knew precious little about Joan – just that Nomura reportedly saved her life. The girl's dark chocolate skin and raven hair were striking, and she was still as skinny as the day Nomura brought her to New Trollmarket. Joan expressed little desire to go outside even though she was curious about her surroundings, and occasionally – like now – she isolated herself for reasons neither Jim nor Claire could discern.

"You think her parents miss her?" Claire whispered to Jim.

"Blinky said her own tribe turned on her… That's what Nomura said too, but I don't know what that means," Jim replied.

Claire approached the brooding girl. "Joan?" She knelt beside her. "Do you want me to give a message to your parents – tell them you're all right? You haven't been outside for nearly a month."

Joan didn't reply.

"Erhm… Do you not have parents?" Jim tried.

Still no reply.

"Okay, whatever it is, it's fine," he assured.

Joan stretched out on her mattress and turned her back to them.

"Joan?" said Claire.

"I don't want to talk! Can't you understand that?" Joan bit back.

"Oh… Okay. I mean… That's–" Claire sighed. "If you change your mind, we'll be here. Come on, Jim." she took his hand and led him out of their hut.

Great! Now I made Jim and Claire mad at me too. Everyone's mad at me! That's how it is. People are nice in the beginning, then they hate you. Stupid… stupid… stupid… stupid… She pounded the mattress as angry tears filled her eyes.

Through the hut's thin walls Joan could hear passing trolls as they laughed and talked. But then one said something she didn't understand, "Thank God the impure left! Let's hope she stays away."

Impure? That doesn't sound very nice. What do they mean?

Another troll snorted. "And the impure dragged in another human. Can you believe it?"

Wait… Are they talking about… Nomura?!

As the trolls moved on, Joan puzzled over that word – impure. What did it mean?


	22. A different way

Joan sat on the little stoop outside Jim and Claire's hut, head hung low. She felt terrible for how she'd treated everyone. Her fear spurred hasty, foolish words, and she regretted every one of them. The trolls hadn't done anything to hurt her, and Jim and Claire were… great. Even after she snapped at them Jim asked if she had a favorite food he could make for her – from scratch. Homemade food was a luxury she'd never had, and Jim's cooking was delicious. But even with their continued kindness, Joan didn't know what to say to them.

I'm just an ungrateful, rude little brat… She shook her head and hid her face.

Jim came and sat beside her.

Joan was too ashamed to look at him.

"I erh… I hope you enjoyed the food," he offered.

Joan didn't respond.

"Erh…" He shifted; his unshod feet thunked from one wooden step down to the next.

"It was… really good… Thank you," she whispered.

Jim smiled. "You're welcome. I'm glad I still get to cook. It's just… one of the few normal things I get to do. It helps me take my mind off things, you know. Do you like to cook?"

"Don't know," Joan said. "Never tried."

"If you ever want to give it a go, just say the word," Jim said. "I could use a taste tester. I… can't do it myself anymore." He leaned back on his elbows and sighed.

Joan glanced at Jim. Sadness passed over his face, but it quickly disappeared.

"Joan, it's okay if you're not all right. I bet you've been through a lot of stuff, and this is almost too much to take in."

"I…" Joan swallowed hard. "I ran into Blinky's brother – Dictatious, right?"

"What? Oooh." Anger flashed in his eyes. "Listen, whatever he told you, it's probably not true! You can't trust him – at all. What did he say?"

"I… barely remember. It was just… scary. And Nomura… she's scary too. I know I've done some bad things, I just –"

"Hey," Jim said. "It's all right to be afraid sometimes. I get scared by these trolls too even if I know they're my friends."

Joan looked at him quizzically.

"I used to be just a normal human, you know."

"Seriously?" she said.

Jim nodded. "I wasn't strong enough as a human to defeat Gunmar and save everyone, so I had to become stronger, and that meant becoming part troll. But…" He held up his mismatched hands. "It's not that easy. Trolls aren't humans – they're an entirely different species. Sometimes it's easy to forget, but there are other times you see the differences plainly."

"Yeah," Joan agreed.

"Trolls are just people though. No two are the same. Look at Blinky and Dictatious. They're brothers – they share the same birthstone – but while Blinky wouldn't hurt anyone, Dictatious is as mean-spirited as they come," said Jim.

"Yeah, I see. It's not like humans can't be mean too," she said.

"You've been through some bad stuff, huh?"

Joan looked at the ground.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Jim assured.

Joan stared at the empty street. "Jim… can I… ask you a question?"

Jim nodded. "Sure."

"Um… What's an impure?"

The look on Jim's face changed to one of surprise. "Impure?" He groaned. "I told them not to use that word!"

"They… called Nomura an impure. Why did they do that? Do you know?" said Joan.

With a heavy sigh Jim shook his head. "I know it's hard for humans to see, but… Nomura… She's not like other trolls. She's… different."

"How?" Joan tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"A very long time ago, there was a great war between a troll named Gunmar the Black and the trolls of Trollmarket. The war ended last year, but it started over a millennium ago. Back then, Gunmar… stole a lot of young trolls and did horrible things to them. He changed them, made them into what's called Changelings. They have the ability to shift into a human shape, and Nomura is one of them."

"Wait… Nomura can change into the shape of a human?"

"Not anymore. I… kind of stole that ability from them at the end of the war," Jim admitted. "But, for a long time the rest of trollkind didn't consider Gunmar's servants to be real trolls. Actually, Gunmar and the Trollmarket trolls thought of them as lower beings and didn't treat Changelings with any respect at all. I still almost have to beat it into most of their skulls to treat them decently, but… a thousand years of mistrust isn't easy to erase. To Gunmar they were mindless tools, disposable. To Trollmarket… well…" Jim sighed. "They were impure. But now, it isn't about what they did, it's just about what they are – even though none of them asked to become Changelings."

"I had no idea…" Joan breathed.

"I doubt Nomura would tell you. She's too proud." Jim snorted. "They all were. I think they had to be. If they showed weakness, they…"

"They what?" Joan asked.

"They died."

Joan bit her lip.

"Weak Changelings didn't live long." Jim's eyes softened. "You know… I think Nomura sees herself in you. Except, with you, there's a chance to make different choices, build a different life."

"You think that's why she saved me?"

"I can't be sure, but I know this – Changelings were desperate creatures. They longed to experience something other than the miserable existence they were cursed with. When you were making progress learning to sing that's the first time I've ever seen Nomura happy."

"I don't know what she wants from me. It's confusing," said Joan.

"If I could take a guess, I think she wants you to be stronger, so you can make it through whatever life you want. Nomura's been through a lot – a thousand years of war and pain, forced to witness so much suffering. And yet, she helped me, even if it meant risking her own life. I want to pay her back. I want to find a way for her to be happy. So, if there's anything I can do, just tell me." Jim smiled. "Nomura doesn't even have to know. We can keep it between us."

For a moment, Joan stared at Jim hard, but then she nodded. "Okay."

"So, is there any particular dessert you like? I can cook anything. Name it, and I'll make it!"

"Erhm…" Joan hesitated, not sure what to pick. "Brownies? No, wait! Not brownies." She shook her head. "Do you… know how to make apple crumble?"

"Do I know how to make apple crumble? Hah! I make the best apple crumble! My Mom says so herself!" He grinned.

Joan laughed as she imagined the half-troll warrior running around the kitchen whipping up pie tart and apples.

"Claire!" he called as he scrambled up and rushed into the hut. "Would you mind making a quick trip to the surface?"

Joan heard the ensuing conversation clearly through the thin walls.

"What for?" Claire asked.

"I need you to buy some vanilla ice-cream," said Jim.

"What? Jim, you can't eat ice-cream. You'll be sick."

"That's the only way to eat apple crumble – with a scoop of ice-cream," Jim insisted.

"That's all right. I don't need any dessert today," Claire replied.

"Hey! Not everything's for you," Jim said. "It's for Joan. I asked what she likes, and she said apple crumble."

"Oh! Well, why didn't you just say so?" Claire retorted. Sixty seconds later she rushed out, purse slung over her shoulder. "Anything I can get you on the surface, Joan?" she asked as she passed.

"No, that's fine," Joan assured. "And… Jim doesn't have to make apple crumble, and you don't have to go get ice-cream."

"Pish-posh!" Claire said. "We'll have a party! Hey, you can come with me if you want. We can go to the surface together!"

Joan hesitated. "Well… Okay."

"Really?" Claire looked surprised.

"Yeah. I haven't been out for a while," Joan said. "Fresh air sounds nice."

Claire beamed. "Great! Nothing like a girls' night out! Come on." She grinned.

Joan blinked in astonishment at Claire's enthusiasm, but after two seconds of bafflement, she got up and followed the other girl, the hint of a smile on her lips.


	23. Choosing your way of life

Days passed with no sign of Nomura. Every time Joan checked the empty keep, guilt haunted her.

Maybe it's my fault… she wondered. Maybe she'll kick me out when she gets back…

Jim and Claire proved impossible to exasperate, and while she stayed with them, Joan learned new things about the pair. For one, they were a unique couple. They met when Jim was still human, and Claire stayed with him despite his transformation. Once more, Claire's patience was boundless. She didn't mind Jim's trollishness, and she supported him during his bouts with depression. Joan had no doubt this was why she was so patient with her too.

Blinky eventually heard about Joan's run-in with Dictatious and came to Jim and Claire's hut to apologize. He met Jim and Joan on the porch. When he spoke, he wouldn't look at Joan, and his behavior perplexed her.

"Blinky," Jim said after the troll finished. "What Dictatious does isn't your fault."

"I'm the one who allowed him to stay in Trollmarket with us," Blinky said. "He's a traitor, and I should never have brought him. But…" He sighed. "He is my brother, and I couldn't leave him, blind as he is – especially since that's my doing. Everything he does is my responsibility." He turned to Joan. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Joan shook her head. "He just… talked, I suppose."

Blinky sighed. "Dictatious is a troll who thrives on treachery and lies. Whatever he said, pay it no mind."

"He said trolls eat humans," Joan muttered toward the floor and everyone fell silent. "Is… that true?"

"Some trolls do," Blinky admitted. "And, in the past, it was much more common, but here in Trollmarket, such things are forbidden!" He shook his staff and the Christmas lights strung around it jingled.

"So… you can eat humans, but you choose not to." Joan hugged herself and shivered.

"When you put it like that… it's… erh…" Blinky stopped, but finally admitted, "Yes."

"Well… I suppose humans can eat other humans too, but it's considered horrible to do it. Heh." Joan gave an awkward laugh.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," Jim said. He cleared his throat and steered them away from the morbid topic. "This is how I see it. Trolls and humans aren't that different. They're both capable of doing so many things – good and bad. Most people do both. Sometimes, what one person considers good, another calls bad. Then there are those who do bad things but try to justify them. And sometimes it's just something they have to do – even though it is bad… which makes everything really complicated." He looked from Joan to Blinky. "But, the great thing about all of it is we can choose what we do. We don't have to do bad or good things. It's our choice what kind of person we're going to be. And people…" he looked toward Trollmarket's entrance and smiled, "they can change. Sure, doing good now doesn't erase a bad past, but what's the point if we can't move forward?"

Joan frowned toward the faraway cavern ceiling, and the surface world that lay beyond. "You talk like anyone can change just like that."

"Well, not anyone," Jim said. "If a person doesn't want to chance, they won't. They have to want it. Dictatious doesn't – at least, not right now." He turned to Blinky. "But he might one day."

Blinky returned a sad smile. "Maybe one day."

To Joan Jim continued, "That doesn't mean others can't. Humans can choose. Trolls can choose. The trolls who live here, they chose to be peaceful, so you don't have anything to worry about."

"Wait, 'who live here'?" Joan said.

Jim nodded. "There are other trolls who – Ahem – didn't choose the same life as the ones here in Trollmarket, so if you meet one, stay on your guard."

"Master Jim is right," said Blinky. "Trollmarket was built as a haven." Blinky tugged open the bag slung over his shoulder and took out a glowing light. "Long ago, there was a war. Numerous tribes fought, and every day trolls lost friends, brothers, mates. Trolls who wanted no part in the war found one another and made a city for themselves. They called it Trollmarket. It's the only place trolls of different tribes and species live together. The rules here are clear. We don't seek out conflict. We hide and protect ourselves from harm, so we may live in peace." As he spoke, the light floated into the air and Joan watched, entranced.

Blinky continued, "We are trolls who sought a different way. Our enemies still hunt us, attack our home, and when that happens, we defend ourselves." The light settled in with a host of other glowing crystals and stopped an inch short of the ceiling. "But… our belief that peace is possible led us here."

Joan looked at Blinky as his eyes flickered from the light to her.

"We wish no harm – not to humans, or trolls, not to anyone. That isn't why Trollmarket exists. The world is dangerous, for human and troll alike. There are many who do harm. But Trollmarket was built in a world much worse than this one – amidst a war so filled with bloodshed we didn't know how we could ever face another day. Here, we are safe. This is a refuge to those who seek peace as we do."

Blinky's story left Joan speechless, but as she stood on Jim and Claire's porch, a melody, light and clear lifted the heavy air. Joan listened and hummed for a few seconds before she began to sing quietly.

"Ah, what a lovely voice you have, Miss Joan," Blinky said.

His compliment went unanswered when she realized the music's source. "NOMURA!" she cried. "Nomura's back!" She sprinted for the keep. When she burst in, the sight of an exhausted troll sprawled in her sleeping spot welcomed Joan.

"Nomura!" she gasped.

"Oh… hello there, precious," replied the troll as she gave Joan a heavy-lidded glance.

"Nomura, I–" Joan choked. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about what I said. I was just – I don't know – upset. Please, don't throw me out! I was stupid, and you were right. I was being selfish."

"Huh?" Nomura opened her eyes a little more, confused. "Oh, you're still thinking about that? I'd forgotten all about it." She settled back down into her spot.

"What?!" Joan was too flustered to say anything else. Here I was, terrified for a week that she would throw me out, and she forgot about it? Seriously?!

"Sorry, kiddo. I had a lot on my mind." Nomura's voice waned as she tired.

Joan chewed her bottom lip. "A friend of yours needed help, right?"

Nomura gave her a questioning look.

"Jim told me, but he didn't say anything specific. Are you okay?"

"I'm just…" Nomura sighed, "really tired…" She groaned. "Urgh… Stupid Stricklander… Why did he ask me to do something like that?"

Joan saw a few scrapes, scuffs, and even what looked like claw marks on Nomura's stony hide. Whatever she'd gotten roped into, Joan was sure it wasn't pleasant. "So… you're not throwing me out?"

"And leave you on the street?" Nomura tsked. "I'm sure Blinkous, the Trollhunter, and everyone else would be unhappy with me. Looks like I'm stuck with you."

"Sorry…" Joan shifted and looked at the floor.

"Don't be so pathetic. Stand up for yourself," Nomura chided. "I've seen you do it before. You stood up to that oaf Josh, didn't you? Show some pride!"

Joan swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You want to be a diva, so stand up straight!" Nomura instructed.

Joan eased her shoulders back and dared a glance at Nomura.

The troll nodded as Joan's posture improved. "Now, be a dear and change the music." She pointed to the little MP3 player and its speakers.

"What do you want to listen to?" asked Joan as she scrolled through the plentiful selections.

"Something soft," replied Nomura.

Joan nodded and picked an instrumental Chopin album. She turned her attention back to Nomura. By now, the troll lay on her back, eyes closed. Her deep, slow breaths made Joan think she was asleep.

She sat next to the troll and hugged her knees as the music filled her. "Nomura?" she whispered when the song ended.

"Yes?" came the quiet reply as another song began.

"I'm… really glad I met you… And that you decided to help me," Joan said. "I guess I'm pretty confused these days – not always sure what to do. But when I sing, it's wonderful. To be honest, I… don't have to become a professional or anything. I just want to be a better singer. Is that… all right with you?"

Nomura opened her eyes and looked over at Joan. "Yeah."

"I want to be the best singer I can be, even if I can't be on a real stage. I think I'm getting better, and it feels wonderful to improve – to know I can get better. So… I don't want to think about life up there." She pointed toward the ceiling. "When I'm singing, I just want to concentrate on that. Is… that okay?"

Nomura nodded. "I think that's very wise. Honestly, I think I need that too."

Joan smiled a little. "I'm glad I could see all this – Trollmarket – even if it won't last forever."

"I'm… glad you're pleased." Nomura hesitated, then turned her gaze back to the ceiling. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm very tired."

"Okay." Joan nodded and moved to her corner. She didn't know if her company meant anything to Nomura, but she was glad the troll was back – and not angry with her anymore.

There were still so many things she didn't understand – about trolls, Changelings, the word "impure." But when she was immersed in music, it didn't matter quite as much.


	24. Little night queen

After Nomura's return, Joan made a discovery. Trolls liked classical music. And not only did they like it, they loved it.

Lost in thought, Joan sang softly. She didn't notice until several measures in all the big, brutish trolls staring. Half a dozen sat, hands folded as they leaned forward to listen.

Joan stopped, shocked.

Her audience grinned and clapped like a bunch of excited children as more trolls gathered.

Am I a Disney princess now, or something? She blushed and tucked a curl behind her ear as a warm glow spread through her at the applause.

The rest of the day, she hummed everywhere in the hopes a troll would ask her to sing again – offer her a chance to perform for them.

Joan often caught glimpses of Nomura's proud grin – even though the troll stuck to the shadows. Once she heard Nomura mutter about someone named Stricklander and with her hand over her heart the troll whispered, "Something to protect." But Joan didn't understand the significance.

Just after that, a huge, gray troll scooped her onto his back and carried her all around New Trollmarket as she laughed and waved at everyone they passed.

 

That night – according to Joan's watch – she returned to the shared keep and sat on her mattress. A smile still glowed on her face.

"Had fun?" said Nomura from her seat at the table.

Joan nodded. "Ymir gave me a ride."

"Ah, that's his name…" Nomura muttered.

"Everyone is so nice here it's ridiculous," Joan said as she flopped onto her stomach.

"It is," Nomura agreed. She picked up a piece of broken pottery and fitted the shard on to a half-made vase.

"But not Dictatious. He's mean," Joan said in a pout.

"You ran into him again?"

"I… kind of followed Blinky when he went to find him. Blinky was really angry. He told Dictatious not to do anything like that again, or he would banish him."

"Oh? And how did Dictatious react to that?" said Nomura as she sifted through more pieces.

"He cried. Begged. Talked about how he'd die out there all alone. Blinky didn't buy that pathetic show."

Nomura's laugh filled the keep. When she saw Joan's face, she explained. "Oh, I know Dictatious' kind. He acts tough when he has someone to hide behind – Gunmar, Morgana – even Blinky now. He doesn't know how to stand up for himself without leeching off someone else's confidence."

"That's… kind of sad." Joan sat up and crossed her legs. "Although… I can think of a few other people who fit that description." She set her jaw. "I don't want to be like that."

"Good," said Nomura with a smile.

"But I'm still scared… I feel better because you're protecting me. Isn't that kind of the same?"

"Well… No. I wouldn't say it is." Nomura leaned back in her chair and fingered a pottery shard.

"Why not?"

"Because you're doing all the real work yourself," said Nomura.

Joan looked away as Nomura's words ran through her mind. "Erhm… Nomura?"

"Yes, precious?"

Joan smiled a little. That nickname used to be an insult, but… it had become their thing – almost a term of endearment. "I… I've been down here for a while now, haven't I?"

Nomura nodded.

"I don't know what's going on up… there." Joan glanced at the ceiling. "You know, with Mom… Chris, David."

"You don't owe them anything." Nomura snorted and flipped the porcelain piece into a box of mismatched scraps.

"But still… She's my mom. And they're – they're my brothers. I'm worried about them." Joan folded her hands and pictured Chris and David's faces.

Nomura's eyes glowed green in the dimness. "You want to go see them?"

Joan nodded. "I want to at least talk with Chris and David. They're just doing what everybody else does – what they think they have to do to fit in. But that's not right! It's not right at all!" She shook her head. "Chris tries to be cool, and David really looks up to those awful people. He wants to be like them. But they're horrible, Nomura." She met the troll's eyes. "I don't want to be like Josh or his stupid goons. This is my life – not theirs, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it what I want it to be." She stopped and swallowed hard. "Do… you think Chris and David will figure that out too…?"

"Well… they are your brothers. And if either of them is anything like you, I wouldn't count them out." Nomura said. "Just don't go up there alone."

Joan frowned. "It won't do any good to go at night. That's when everyone's drunk… or high. Not every night, but… well… They'll be more reasonable during the day. And Josh'll be asleep."

"I can't come with you during the day!" Nomura hissed.

"It's my mom… and my brothers. They won't let me get hurt."

"They already did!" Nomura countered. "I saw it! That idiot slapped you, and none of them tried to stop him!"

Joan's hand drifted to her cheek. "A slap… doesn't really hurt that much. It'll be okay. It's just a short visit."

"Fine. I suppose there's no arguing with you," Nomura muttered. "At least come back soon." In a hiss so low Joan almost didn't hear, Nomura whispered, "Never thought I'd wish I could change again – but not like Stricklander. That's much too permanent."

"I'll be okay," Joan said. "And when I get back, we can go watch another opera. They're doing 'The Magic Flute'!"

"Magic Flute? Ah, Mozart." Nomura chuckled.

"What?"

"There's a piece in that opera. To sing it the way Mozart wrote it should be impossible, however, a few people – only five in the world now – can sing that piece. They defy the limits of the human body."

"Wow. What's its name?" Joan said.

"The Night Queen's Aria," Nomura said with a smirk.

"Night Queen?" Joan raised an eyebrow.

"Only someone able to go beyond what should be possible can sing it. It would be lovely to hear you try it one day, little Night Queen."

Joan rolled her eyes. "As if I'm that good."

"Not yet. Train. Learn. Then prove the world wrong."

Joan blushed.

"Heh. What a cute little Night Queen," Nomura teased.

"Shut up." Joan quipped. But Nomura's words stuck with her. Night Queen? It has a nice ring to it. Sure beats "precious." I… could get used to it.


	25. reunion

Joan stood just inside Trollmarket's exit tunnel. Nomura tried to convince her not to do this. Hours they argued. The suggestion to ask Claire for help came up, and Joan had no doubt the other girl would help if asked. But it didn't feel right.

This is my family! Joan stepped into the cold morning light and squinted. It's been forever since I went outside. Two or three evening excursions with Claire didn't compare to going out alone. I can't remember the last time I did this…

Joan walked a few empty streets. Before she went to Trollmarket, she wandered almost every day to avoid going home.

She navigated the familiar Jersey slums. Right now, no one was out. Gang members went home an hour or two before dawn, and the homeless were still asleep. This was the most peace a place like this could have.

Joan tapped her shoe on the concrete. And there's a whole other world just under our feet… They're poor too – homeless – or, they were. But they didn't fight about it. They built a new home, and that's kind of… inspiring. She rubbed her hands together in the crisp air as her breath clouded and vanished. And Blinky's nothing like Josh or the Punk Sharks leader. She snorted. Blinky got picked for actually doing some leading.

A cluster of sleeping men and women, bundled in old coats with newspapers stuffed down the front, huddled near an abandoned store-front. Bits of old magazines and paper cups rattled and tapped down the street.

Even Jim – their greatest warrior isn't scary. He's nice, and he doesn't like to hurt people. She dodged a pile of broken glass. And Nomura… Well… She's Nomura.

A familiar old apartment building greeted her when she rounded the corner. The worn, gray block was still ugly. The door squealed as Joan opened it and headed up the narrow stairs. When she found the right door, she dug out her house key. It clicked into the lock.

"Mom?" she called as she peaked inside. "Mom, are you home?" She stepped onto the cheap carpet. "It's… it's me. I–"

"Joan?!" From the kitchen ran her mother, makeup smeared, hair a mess. "Joan, you – you–Where you been?!" she sobbed. "You have any idea what we've been through? We thought you were dead – that we'd find you in an alley somewhere!"

"I – I'm sorry." Joan swallowed hard. "I couldn't come home. Josh… He…"

"He said you'd gone over to the Proud Hogs," said her mother. "That where you been? With them?"

"What? No!" Joan replied. "I've been… at a friend's place."

Her mother thought for a second. "What friend?"

"Erhm…" Joan fiddled with her fingers. "Nomura. She's… a music teacher."

"Music teacher?" Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Where'd you meet a music teacher?"

"I – I hung out with some people at the theater – at centrum. And… we talked music and stuff, and…" She tried to calm the anxiety that twisted her stomach. "Mom? Are you doing okay? How're Chris and David?"

"Fine." Her mother snorted. "You should apologize to them."

"Yeah. I'll do that," Joan said.

"And Josh."

"What?" Joan crossed her arms and sneered. "You're still seeing that scumbag?"

"Don't you talk about him that way," her mother hissed.

"He's horrible!" Joan insisted. "And no, I'm not apologizing to him. Are you crazy? He tried to kill me!"

"You're overreacting."

"No, I'm not! Do I mean so little that you'd choose him over me?"

"What're you saying?" her mother demanded.

"I'm saying… as long as Josh is here, I won't be."

Her mother stared.

"He's a deadbeat! And he's dragging everyone else down with him! Why do you keep hanging out with people like that?"

"What do you know 'bout what I had to go through?" her mother challenged.

"Plenty," Joan retorted. "You never shut up about it. And yet you keep hiding behind awful men. You're so pathetic! Take some responsibility for once. Why do I always have to get dragged into your messes?"

"You have a better idea?" her mother leaned close, anger in her face.

"Yeah. I'm going to live my own life, thank you," Joan replied as she held her mother's glare. "I won't end up like you. I'm going to become something!"

"And what's that?"

"Someone who doesn't have to spend every day in misery because she didn't have the backbone to do something!" Joan shouted.

Stunned silence fell as Joan and her mother stared at each other.

Joan took a deep breath. "I – I just wanted to see you, Chris and David. I'll leave after I see my brothers. Then you won't have to bother with me ever again."

"You're leaving? Where you gonna go?"

"Anywhere's better than here," Joan muttered. "Even the street. At least it isn't a prison. Out there I can do what I want."

Her mother tried to hide a nervous gulp as Joan headed for the door. "Wait! Can't you at least stay for dinner? You wanted to see your brothers, right?"

Joan stopped. "Is Josh coming?"

Her mother shook her head. "He's outta town."

Joan tilted her head in thought. "Okay, fine. But after I get to talk to Chris and David I'm out of here. And I'm not coming back until Josh is gone."

Her mother nodded. "I see."

Nomura hissed into the quiet keep. No matter what position she chose, her bed was uncomfortable. Joan wasn't safe on the surface with those people, but there was nothing Nomura could do about it. By now, the sun was long up. She never liked her human form – too soft, too high maintenance, too weak. But now she wanted it one more time – just long enough to walk on the surface for a few hours.

Most trolls would never consider taking human form. Their world was tunnels and caves, and they rode underground highways that spanned the globe. There was no need to go above ground.

But Nomura had to get attached. She groaned at the wall clock. Eleven A.M. She flopped back onto the bed. It felt like days since Joan left. How was it not even noon yet?

"Chris!" Joan cried as she hugged her older brother.

"Man, don't scare me like that!" said Chris. "I thought some coppa shot you."

"Of course not." Joan pulled away. "I'm fine."

"That's good. Josh and the others were sayin' some monster attacked all a you. Sounded crazy," said Chris.

Joan groaned. Her brother wasn't a bad person, but it annoyed her that he would join Josh's gang.

"Were they high or something?" Chris said. "A pink monster with glowing eyes? Really?"

Joan remembered her promise to Blinky – not to tell anyone about trolls. "Sure sounds like they were high."

"So, what really happened?" Chris asked.

"I was fed up. That's what happened," Joan said. "I'm done. I won't be a part of this anymore."

"You can't say that!" Christ protested. "If you aren't part of this, then who's going to protect you?"

"I'll protect myself," she replied, to her brother's surprise.

"That… doesn't sound like you at all," said Chris.

"That's because… I made my decision." Joan gave her brother a firm look. "We don't have to be part of this, Chris. It's not leading to anything good. What're you going to do? Spend your whole life in a gang? Waste away, getting high and going to prison until you're old? Then what? Does that sound like a life to you?"

"What else can I do?" Chris said.

"You're smart. You can do so much better. It doesn't have to be this way. We can have whatever we make for ourselves."

Chris gave her a long look, then with a groan, turned away. "You want to go? Fine. You'll come back, eventually. That's all right though. I'll protect you like always. That's what I'm here for, you know."

He doesn't believe me… Her heart ached to know she really wouldn't be coming back. The longer she talked, the surer she became. Going away for good was the best thing she could do for herself.

She fought back tears. Even if it hurt, she had to stick to her decision and go.


	26. The break

Her mother splurged on dinner to celebrate Joan's return. Burgers and fries replaced cheap Chinese or a large pizza. Cola was the beverage of choice, even when Joan's mother brought out a bottle of wine and offered it to all three kids. When each refused, she kept it to herself.

This is all of us… Joan watched her mother take a drink straight from the wine bottle. Still don't know where Dad is. She looked at her brothers. Chris's dad's probably still in prison, and David's… Well, I guess his gang is still across town. Not worth remembering either of them, I suppose.

Outside, the sky shone clear blue, sunset, hours away.

I hope Nomura isn't too worried.

"I'm glad you're not dead." David grinned and shoveled fries into his mouth. Through a mouthful he continued, "Josh said you deserved it, but I don't think so." He swallowed. "Please, don't tell him I said that."

Joan gave her little brother a sad smile. "Don't worry. When I leave, don't tell Josh I was ever here."

"Why?" said David.

"That's probably for the best," Chris cut in. "David, you got that? Not a word."

"Okay," David muttered. "But where'll you go? You're not joining another gang, are you?"

Joan shook her head. "I won't be part of any gang anymore. I'm out. You should be too. Both of you."

"No way. I'll be at the top – be super cool," said David. "I'll learn the rules a the street. Then I'll be a rapper!"

"Or end up in prison like most gang members," Joan said.

"Joan!" her mother scolded.

"It's true!" Joan countered. "Either you get shot or go to prison – maybe both. And all for what?"

Chris gave an annoyed groan and rubbed his head. "Since when do you talk like this?"

"Since someone beat some sense into me," Joan shot back. "The world's bigger than a gang war, you know. Other people have issues too – bigger issues than us. We can decide how to live our lives, and I don't want to live mine like this! I just want…" Joan took a deep breath. "I… want to be somewhere I'm allowed to sing – and work to get better at it."

Her family stared in stunned silence.

"Where'd that come from?" Chris said. "You wanna audition for X-Factor?"

"No."

"What then? Be the next Britney Spears?" Chris said.

"You wanna be a rapper too?" David asked. "Not a lotta girl rappers out there."

"No. I… like opera," Joan said.

"What…?" Chris raised an eyebrow at her.

"Opera," Joan repeated. "You know, Richard Wagner, Mozart, George Bizet."

"Who?" Chris looked lost. "I know Mozart, but not those other guys."

Her mother burst out laughing. "Opera!" she scoffed. "Oh – that's – that's a good one, Joan!"

"I'm serious! I like opera!" Joan insisted.

"You? Singing opera?" Her mother set the wine bottle on the table. "You can't even sing."

"You don't know that." Joan stood. "I…" She closed her eyes. She shook as she took a deep breath and started to sing. The piece she and Nomura practiced so much these past few weeks, Caccini's "Ava Maria," filled the apartment. Aa Joan sang, her voice rolled and rose. She remembered how hard it was to hit the highest notes – at first. Now, they came with ease. Thirty seconds into the piece, she let the song die and dared a look at her family.

"Holy…" Chris gaped.

David dropped the fry in his hand. "Whoa…"

Her mother stared without a word.

"What on earth, Sis? You got some mad skills!" Chris leaned back in his chair.

Joan allowed a smile as the praise warmed her heart.

"What's that awful racket!" A shout from the hall.

"Josh!" Joan gasped. "What's he doing here, Mom?"

"I'm sorry, honey. You said if he came, you'd leave."

"You – you lied to me?! He's not out of town!" Joan glared at her mother. "How could you?"

Josh burst into the living room. His eyes landed on Joan and sparked in shock, then anger. "You."

Joan stumbled. Her chair hit the carpet. Outside, the sun still shone.

"So, you crawled back?" Josh sneered. "Learned your lesson yet?"

Chris stood. "It's all right, Josh. Joan's learned. Right, Joan?"

She looked from Chris to Josh then gulped back her fear. "Yeah. I leaned my lesson. I… I'm not staying here. Mom." Tears threatened to fall. "David… Chris… if we ever meet again, I… hope we can talk. Goodbye." Joan ran for the door. Her shoulder caught Josh on the way out and knocked him to the side as she took the stairs to the ground floor.

"Make a fool outta me, will you?" He hissed and fumbled for the gun in his pocket.

"Hey!" Chris jumped for Josh's arm.

"What're you doing?" the gang leader bellowed.

"Fool! That's my sister!" Chris stumbled back as Josh bashed him with the pistol.

"She's a snitch, you idiot." Josh grabbed his cell. "And there's only one way to deal with snitches." He dialed and pressed the phone to his ear.


	27. Something to protect

Enraged shouts drove Joan faster. Her shoes pounded pot-holed pavement. Got to get back to the entrance! She searched each cross-street. They can't find me in Trollmarket.

"Yo, she's on Maple." A man stepped from the shadows and stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Hey, Joan." He gave her a sharp nod and stepped into the road.

The last working street lamp flickered and buzzed on as the evening sun sank behind the nearest building. Joan inched toward the little puddle of light. She shook her head. "Why are you doing this? I'm nothing to you – any of you."

"Jus' heard you snitched on us," he said. "Worst kind 'a traitor's a snitch, Joan."

"Snitched? But, I didn't!" She ran.

"Hey! You come back here!"

They won't stop hunting 'til they get me. Joan darted through the darkening streets as the shouts grew louder. Around here, "snitch" meant traitor, or worse, outsider. I'm not a snitch! Obviously, that doesn't matter. She snorted. Told them whatever you had to, didn't you, Josh. Couldn't lose face in front of your boys.

Joan passed a battered sign. "Elm." She skidded into a cross-street. Wrong way! Great. Why did I go out during the d– No! I can't depend on Nomura for everything. She kept running as she circled toward Trollmarket. She taught me a lot. Time to use it.

She ducked into a deserted alley and gasped for air, hands on her knees.

"Snitch went this way! She's close!"

Joan bolted. Got to get away! She turned down roads at random. If she saw someone, she took another street or doubled back. Sweat soaked her clothes as her heart hammered. Shadows lengthened, but she kept running.

A man in a hoodie appeared ahead so Joan took a hard left into a narrow alley. Once she passed several locked doors and a dumpster, she noticed the wall at the end of the path.

"No, no, no!" She backtracked. Too late.

"There you are," Josh sneered from the entrance. His goons surrounded him. "Lil' snitch."

Joan gulped but stood straight and declared, "Liar! I ain't no snitch."

"Then where were you?" said Josh. "With the Punk Sharks? Or did you go cry to da fuzz?"

"Neither. The world's bigger than your stupid gang wars. You're just too pathetic to see it."

"What's that now?" Josh stood stupefied.

"You heard me. PATHETIC!" Joan took a step toward the gang leader. "You hide behind your tough-guy attitude with your fists, guns, and those idiots who follow you. And it's because you're too sad to do things yourself! You can't even take it when one little girl stands up to you!"

Josh's eyes narrowed. "Shut up," he hissed.

"People with real strength don't need to prove it," said Joan. "But you always have to prove yourself because you're weak."

With a snarl, Josh pulled his gun on Joan.

I should be terrified. She stared into the barrel. I should be hysterical. This could be it, but… Calm strength took her. Just one more song – the Night Queen Aria, maybe. Joan closed her eyes and hummed.

Josh hissed. Joan sensed his finger tighten on the trigger.

"NO!"

Her eyes flew open as someone tackled Josh. The gun clacked to the pavement as the gang leader and his attacker grabbed for it.

"Don't touch my sister!"

"Chris!" Joan cried as the pair struggled.

"You traitor," Josh growled.

"Joan, run," Chris urged as he managed to snag the weapon.

Josh's men stepped forward, but the crack of a gunshot scattered them. Josh kicked the weapon out of Chris's hand.

"Go! You were right!" Chris grappled Josh to the pavement. "You can do better than this, but only if you get out of here!"

Josh got away and scrambled to his feet. He cracked Chris's jaw with a bloodied fist and Chris replied with a solid head-butt.

"Get away from my brother," Joan rammed Josh.

"I said run!" Chris bellowed as Josh broke his hold.

"No," Joan countered.

The gang leader hissed at the pair, his gun still on the ground between him and Chris. Both eyed the weapon. They snatched for it.

Joan looked for an opening as the two struggled for control, but a sharp crack sent her three steps back. "Chris!"

Her brother staggered, eyes wide as he clutched his side. Red stained his white shirt too fast.

"This is your fault!" Josh's fury lit his face as he held the gun on Chris.

"I – I didn't mean…" Tears blurred Joan's vision. "Chris…" she sobbed.

"It's not your fault, stupid," Chris groaned, hissed and grabbed his side tighter.

"No… it's yours," she wiped her tears and glared at Josh. "It's all of yours!" Joan swept a hand at the rest of the gang. "You drag people down to your level, and I hate you. All of you!"

Josh turned the gun on Joan. "Likewise," he sneered.

A claw snapped Josh backward, and he stood before a creature taller than him. He cowered at its pink hide and startling green eyes.

Half the gang screamed and sprinted back to the road faster than rabbits fleeing a hound dog. The others shrank behind a dumpster.

"Why is this stupid city always littered with trash?" Nomura growled into Josh's ashen face. "And why am I the one who always has to clean it up?!" She heaved the gang leader onto his goons and leapt after him to pummel the wailing heap of cowards.

Joan reached her brother as he sank to his knees. "Chris!" She held a hand over his wound.

"What is that?!" Chris stared at Nomura, then yelped as his weight shifted.

"Don't move," Joan begged. Breaths came fast and short as she fumbled for something she could use. "We have to stop the bleeding, right?"

Chris groaned and sank onto the cracked pavement.

Josh and his crew staggered off, crying.

When Nomura approached Joan and her brother, Chris gasped.

"It's okay," Joan assured. "This is Nomura. She's… my music teacher."

"She's what?" Chris said.

Nomura cocked an eyebrow at Joan and Chris.

"He – Josh shot him! What do we do?" Joan looked up at the troll.

"Don't you humans have hospitals for this kind of thing?" said Nomura.

"We can't. The police will ask questions, then Chris will be a snitch for real. Please, Nomura! He saved me. There's got to be another way!" Joan pleaded.

With a hiss and a groan, Nomura said, "Fine. We'll take him to the Trollmarket entrance, but no further. I have a contact – a human doctor."

"You do?"

"Well, the Trollhunter does."

"Jim knows a doctor?"

"Yes." Nomura took Chris's arm, which elicited a scream. "Oh, suck it up." She pulled the young man onto her back. "This is just great." Nomura rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Joan said, eyes on a shredded candy wrapper huddled in a crack.

"Seriously. I let you out of my sight for a second and this happens. Why am I surprised?" Nomura headed toward Trollmarket.

"Sorry," Joan repeated.

"For the record, he may be your brother, but this kid is not staying at my place."

"You…" Chris groaned. "You're the one who took care of my sister? Her music teacher… Did you teach her to sing?"

"No. Kid taught herself that," Nomura said.

"Thanks," Chris whispered as he passed out.

"We have to get him somewhere he can lie down," said Joan. She scanned the empty street. At least no one's out to see us. She hurried after Nomura. "Thanks… for saving me."

"Pfft! If you got hurt while under my care, the Trollhunter would have my head," Nomura replied.

"Can't have that." Joan smirked. "And what if Blinky decided to give you one of his big lectures?"

"That would be the worst," Nomura groaned.

"Then I suppose it's good I'm okay."

Nomura nodded. "But if Blinky hears about this…" She pointed to Chris and rolled her eyes. "Why do I keep getting into these situations?"


	28. Brother

I hate this! Joan sat beside Chris. Her older brother lay on a tattered, tarp-covered mattress in the corner of Blinky's keep. I want to help, but I can't do anything useful. She choked back more tears; she'd cried enough already. Heh. So much for the plan to stay at the entrance…

Nearby, Jim cleared off Blinky's table and set up a laptop. Back on the surface, the moment he saw Chris's wound, Jim had insisted they come down to Trollmarket.

Blinky fished potions and books from a dozen shelves. The bottles he held clanked as he scuttled from one end of the keep to the other muttering.

"Mom?" Jim said to the read-headed woman in the Skype call window. Kindness shone in her eyes, and Joan instantly liked her. Jim angled the laptop so his mother could see Chris. "He got shot. What do we do?"

"What do you mean, 'What do we do?'" Jim's mom shouted. "Get him to the hospital!"

"Can't. He's part of a gang," Jim said.

"Then what's he doing there?"

"Remember Joan?" said Jim. "I told you about her. She sings really well."

"Yes…"

"It's her brother, Mom. Please. What do we do?"

Jim's mother sighed. "Whatever you do, make absolutely sure that wound is clean and disinfected. Keep it that way at all costs. Infection is the worst thing that could happen. Show me the entry wound."

Jim brought the laptop to Chris's bedside.

The hole-ridden tarp crackled as Joan cradled Chris's head and brushed his hair away from his face. "You okay?"

"I think… I'm havin' a fever-dream," Chris said.

His forehead was warm.

"Does that dude have six eyes?" Chris pointed to New Trollmarket's leader as he trundled to another cluttered shelf.

"Uh-huh. That's Blinky," Joan said.

"Hah! That's funny," Chris's pain squelched his chuckle. "Aw, geesh!"

A four-armed shadow fell over her.

"I… I broke my promise. I'm sorry, Blinky…" Joan hung her head.

"No." Nomura stepped forward. "I revealed myself to the humans. I brought this boy here. Joan didn't do anything."

Blinky sighed. "When I first brought Jim to Trollmarket, Vendel told me, 'You bring in just one human. It doesn't work that way. Soon there will be two. Then it will be an infestation.'" His ears drooped. "Vendel was right. With Jim came Tobias, then Claire, Mrs. Lake, Mr. and Mrs. Nuñez, Steve Palchuk, Eli Pepperjack… I allowed Joan inside. As leader of New Trollmarket, I should have known the consequences. I've seen it happen before, after all. Neither of you need worry."

"If it helps any–" Chris hissed and bit his lip. "I won't tell. My sis is safe here, so there's no way I'm gonna risk that. Just… protect her, Mr. Demon."

Blinky huffed. "Why! I never! Demon? Do I look like a demon to you? Demons aren't made of stone – they're made of fire. Don't you know anything?"

Joan took Chris's hand and laughed a little. "They're trolls. Not like the ones on the internet – but like in old fairy tales. You know, 'The Three Billy Goats' kind of thing…"

"Or Trolls 2." Chris smiled along with his sister.

"You don't have to be scared of them," Joan assured.

"I'm not," said Chris. "You're not scared, so it has to be okay. Man, the way you stood up for yourself and spoke your mind – I've never seen you do that before. You used to be a quiet little mouse, but… what you did back there… It was cool." His eyes drooped.

"You should rest." Joan felt his forehead again. Still warm.

Chris nodded. His eyes slipped closed. Whether he fell asleep or passed out, Joan couldn't tell.

"Why, Nomura. Getting sentimental?" The voice was foreign, British, Joan thought as her attention turned to the Skype call.

While Jim tended to Chris, Nomura eyed the man next to Jim's mother on the computer screen. "Mind your own business, Stricklander," she hissed.

"My, my. In the old days, people would've accused you of going soft," the British man said.

"You're one to talk," Nomura countered. "Suburban dad."

The Brit chuckled.

"Walt. Quiet," Jim's mother shushed him. "I need to talk to Jim."

"Forgive me, dear." He waited for Jim's mom to finish, then addressed Joan. "Ah, the girl of the hour. I'm pleased to finally meet you."

"How… do you know about me?" Joan said.

"Nomura took me to the theatre to hear you some months back. You have a lovely voice," he replied.

"Wh-what?" Joan turned wide eyes to Nomura. The troll avoided her gaze. "You took people to the theatre to gawk at me?"

"No! Only… the one time. It was the night before his wedding," Nomura said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Joan countered.

"Well… he – he's my brother."

Joan looked from Nomura to the Brit. Then wide-eyed she looked back at Nomura again. "I don't see the family resemblance."

Jim's mom pushed the man out of the frame. "Use your phone and talk somewhere else, please!"

Nomura laid a claw on Joan's shoulder. "You're tired. You should rest."

"I suppose so." She nodded. "Jim, please tell me if anything happens."

"Of course. Don't worry. My mom's a great doctor. And Blinky knows magic – and Strickler knows some spells."

Joan nodded, grateful.

Nomura ushered her out of Blinky's keep.

"So… that was Jim's mom. She seems nice," Joan said.

"I only met her a few times, but she was always kind to me," Nomura replied.

"What's your brother doing with her?"

"They're married." Nomura rolled her eyes. "And they have a whelp."

"Jim?"

"No. Mrs. Lake and Stricklander wed only a few months ago."

"This is confusing," Joan said. "What's the story? If he's your brother, why is he… Why are you…"

"If I told you the whole story, we'd be here all year." Nomura snorted.

"I could use the distraction."

Nomura sighed. "First thing you should know about Stricklander – he is, always has been, and always will be a condescending snake and a turncoat."

"Lovely relationship you have." Joan smirked.

"He's the worst! I hate him!" Nomura asserted.

Joan shook her head. I know better than to think you mean that. If you really hated the guy, you'd have ignored him. There's always more to your stories than what you say, Nomura. She followed the troll to the keep and sent up a prayer that Chris would be okay.


	29. Decision

"Joan…" Someone shook her. "Hey, Joan."

She opened bleary eyes. "Jim!" Joan shot upright. "Chris – is he –?"

Jim smiled. "He should be fine. But, if he gets an infection, we're taking him to the hospital – no objections allowed!"

Joan hugged him. "Thanks."

"He was lucky," said Jim. "The bullet didn't hit any organs."

"Thank God." Joan rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"He's still out, so you can see him later. I thought knowing he was okay might help you sleep better."

"Yes, definitely. Thank you." Joan hesitated. "So, I hear your stepfather tried to kill you too."

"Huh? Oh, you mean Strickler. Yeah. We… worked through it."

"I don't think I can do that with mine…" Joan studied the ceiling.

Jim shook his head. "People who don't want to change won't."

"But, if they do want to, they can." Joan hugged her knees to her chest. "Maybe this was the wake-up call Chris needed."

"I hope so. He really cares about you."

"Yeah, I'd say so. He just took a bullet for me." Joan gave Jim an unsteady smile. "You look tired. You should get to sleep."

"Hope you can rest better now," he said.

"I think I will. Thanks again," Joan said as Jim left.

Joan entered Blinky's keep. Chris still lay on his mattress, but now several pillows propped him up, and he breathed in deep, even draws.

Chris stirred, then smiled. "Sis."

"Hey, bro." She knelt by his bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I spent the night chuggin' expired vodka then got run over by an elephant."

"At least you'll live." She took his hand. "That's a relief."

"You been online?" Chris pulled out his phone.

"No, not really. Why?"

"Josh went viral." He held his phone toward Joan. "Check it out. 'Local gangster on rampage while shouting about a pink monster.'" He scrolled down the page. "'Police were called to talk the gang leader down from his apartment building roof but were unable to approach as shots were fired. Once the man was apprehended, it was determined that his erratic behavior was caused by an overdose.'"

Joan gasped. "After Nomura… he must've been furious. He hates it when people talk to him like that, and now it's happened twice. He lost it! Is… he still in jail?"

"Yep. He shot up the apartment building. Lucky he didn't hurt anybody. They got him for reckless endangerment. No one's going to take him seriously now, anyway." He switched apps and handed Joan the phone. "Watch this."

The muffled video, taken from a fourth-story apartment window showed Josh, gun in hand as he staggered around the street. "It was a monster!" he wailed. "Monster thinks it can trick me – I'll kill you, monster! Kill anybody who dares make a fool outta me!" Josh spooked and shot a trash can. A rat streaked from behind it and Josh screamed, "Monster!" He took pot shots at the rat. "You're dead!"

The video ended.

"Wow. He is going straight to the loony bin for sure." Joan handed the phone back.

"Hopefully."

"Chris… You know that's what gang life will do to you too… right?"

Chris looked away but nodded. "Yeah…"

"You're not going back, are you?"

"You know it's not that simple in our neighborhood. Don't got gang protection – get attacked. I can't just leave Mom and David." He shook his head. "But… things can't keep goin' this way either." He laid a hand over his bandages.

"We could always… go to the police – ask for protection."

"You mean snitch," Chris said.

"What do we owe those people? They dragged us down, never gave us anything, just took. They're leeches! With Josh exposed, this is our chance. We can tell the truth. He shot you. The rest of the gang will target us, and we can get protection. We can leave."

Chris met her gaze.

"We might never get a chance like this again," she said and squeezed his hand. "We can't keep relying on the trolls to fix our problems for us. Come on. Please…"

Blinky's keep fell silent.

Joan could still see pain in Chris's face, and not all of it was from the gunshot.

Her brother nodded. "Okay."

Joan grinned and flung her arms around him as she cried for joy.

"Ahhh!" Chris hissed. "That hurts!"

"Suck it up," Joan sniffed. "I just needed to hug you."

"Thanks, sis…"

Joan let go. Her smile still lit her face and Chris matched it.

 

Nomura watched from the doorway.

Blinky approached her. "They grow up so fast, don't they? Humans."

"She'll be all right now. That's what matters," said Nomura.

Blinky nodded. "Agreed."


	30. The Dancing Troll

The next six months felt like an eternity.

Everything changed.

After five months living in a safe house, Joan and Chris decided not to rely on their mother anymore and moved back into the city. They chose a different part of town and Chris got a job at a warehouse, stocking product and building pallets. It wasn't glamorous, but it was a living, and he and Joan found a place, small and affordable.

When their mother tested positive for drugs, David moved into foster care, but the family that took him in was nice, and Joan was glad for him.

Since she wasn't old enough to have a full-time job, Joan picked up about twenty hours a week at a music café down the street from their apartment. It had a beautiful baby grand tucked in the corner and musicians came to play every Saturday afternoon.

School and her job kept her busy, but Joan made time to visit Trollmarket every week to practice singing with Nomura. Then, Chris started to take an interest in music too. In his free time, instead of watching TV and playing games on his phone, he wrote songs on an old laptop he found at a thrift store. Incredibly, the thing still worked.

Joan often hummed along once she learned his songs, and she suggested to her brother that they work together – her voice and his music. He agreed, and Joan came to love the time they spent together. It was one of the most amazing feelings she'd ever had.

One day, they decided to do something they'd never dared consider. They trekked to the middle of the shopping district, Chris with his computer and a speaker set and Joan with her karaoke microphone.

The grey sky threatened rain.

"Man, that's too bad…" Chris said as he eyed the clouds.

"No, it's perfect!" Joan smiled. "Nomura can come outside in weather like this. Come no, hit it."

Chris set up the cheap speakers and started the music.

"On a moonless night,

Yet a starry night,

In the forest deep

Someone takes a leap!

Beware – the danger's near;

Beware – there's reason to fear!

A jump so elegant

A twirl could kill an elephant.

Beware the dancing troll!

Each step a deadly toll!"

People stopped to listen. Joan sang several songs – all hers and Chris's, then clapping stopped her.

"That's so cool!" a teenager said to her friend. "I haven't ever heard anything like it before. It's so different."

Joan smiled and looked toward the roof of the building across the street Did you see, Nomura?

A woman approached. She was Asian with long, straight, black hair and green eyes. "My, what a little Night Queen," she said.

Joan blinked. Little Night Queen? But that's what–

"Yup. She's somethin'," Chris grinned, oblivious.

"You've come a long way." The woman nodded.

It can't be… Can it?

"What's wrong, little Night Queen?"

"No-Nomura? Is that… you?"

"W-what?!" Chris stammered.

The woman gave them a warm smile. "Stricklander owed me a favor. There's a mask that enables the wearer to look like anyone they want. It broke during the war, but, as I said, he owed me. I had him fix it," she tapped her face, "and deliver it all the way from California."

"You came!" Joan hugged Nomura tight.

She stroked Joan's hair. "Of course, I did. I had to see if all my hard work paid off."

Chris smiled. "Thanks for coming. You wanna grab a bite with us?"

"The mask's effects are only illusionary. I can't eat human food or be out in sunlight. Thank God for the weather. Still, I wouldn't mind seeing where Joan works. I'll just order some water."

"Of course!" Joan beamed and grabbed Nomura's hand. It was… warm and human, unlike her true, stony troll hide. "You'll love the café! They have pictures of famous classic artists, and they let me use the piano after hours whenever I want. I'm not any good yet, but I found a piano book that shows the basics. They said when I am good enough, they'll let me perform! And pay me for it!"

Nomura let Joan drag her along as Chris followed with the equipment.

"David's visiting soon too," said Joan. "He doesn't want to be in a gang anymore, thank God."

"Josh's meltdown and me getting shot kind of shattered the illusion for him," Chris said. "Man, if Joan never stood up to Josh…" He shook his head.

"I could only stand up to him because of what Nomura taught me," Joan blushed.

They stopped at a light and waited for the cross-walk symbol to change.

Nomura chuckled and ruffed Joan's hair. "You helped me too," she said. "By the way, I hope you're free tonight. There's a performance of Faust at the theatre."

"Yes!" Joan cheered.

The cross-walk blinked green and Joan skipped to the other side of the street alongside Nomura and Chris.

"Now that Nomura can look human, shouldn't you guys be buying tickets?" Chris said as they neared the café.

"But the beams across the ceiling are the best seats in the house!" Joan protested.

"Haven't gone a hundred percent straight, huh?" Chris winked at her.

"I'll pay when I earn some more money, okay?" Joan said.

Chris chuckled.

"Tickets are over-priced anyway," Nomura said.

The group entered the café. As the little bell over the door jingled, Joan couldn't help but think that they looked an odd ensemble, but she didn't care. They were happy. And, in the end that was what mattered.

The End


End file.
